A Fight Worth Fighting
by PunkxValentine
Summary: Sara decides to take a different approach to her problem with Grissom and Lady Heather, all thanks to her foster sister, Brooke Waters. No longer willing to accept things for what they are, Sara Sidle decides to fight for what she's wanted for the longest
1. The Start of Things

A/N: Okay, so this is my first at a CSI story... I'm sorry, but I just couldn't stand the second to last episode with Lady Heather in it... I will reserve my comments at this point, but I think you'll get my reactions to her a little later in this fic... I really can't stand her. And I apologize for everyone else that is just like me... Know that I had the hardest time writing this first part with Grissom and Heather. That's why I made it as short as possible... Hehe... No worries though!

Disclaimer: Roses are Red. Violets are Blue. Dammit I don't own CSI. But neither to do you... So HA HA YOU POOR SAPS! HAHA! You're stuck in the same spot I am! Okay, temporary spaz moment is over with... Thank you and have a safe drive home...

Sara's POV:

It had been some time since I heard the lab's latest rumor about my boss and the infamous dominatrix, Lady Heather. At first, I'd dismissed the thought from my thoughts for my sanity's sake, but also because I just found it so incredulous to believe to begin with. I mean, I know the two had that God forsaken fling a couple of years ago, but one night stand couldn't possibly be coming back around for another round, right?

But that was six weeks ago. This was the present day. And present day was pure Hell for me right now.

I was pulling into the parking lot back at the lab, getting back from my latest crime scene and getting ready to haul the evidence into the lab. Daily ritual. The one thing that wasn't so ritual, as I was about to enter the lab was two voices floating through my ears just a few cars away from me. The first voice, I recognized at once, was that of Grissom. The second voice, was a female voice that I didn't recognize right away.

"You know I'm supposed to be working right now. You can't just keep pulling me out every time you miss me or feel the need to check up on me. I am a grown man, you know..." Grissom said in a somewhat light-hearted tone.

"I know that as well. But, I can't help it. It's an impulse." The voice of the woman was very monotone and calm.

"Well, in the future, please Heather... Please try to control your impulses. People do need their space." Grissom's voice turned back to professional.

I saved myself from dropping the evidence all over the ground as I heard him say her name. But I had to force myself from jumping to conclusions. It didn't have to mean anything intimate, correct? You can miss a friend and just want to see them, right?

My feelings were torn between not wanting to really know the truth and wanting to have some type of closure and were waging a war inside of me while I just stood there as a short silence ensued. But in the end, once Heather started to talk again, I decided I needed closure, no matter what it might be. But I wasn't ready for what was exchanged between the two verbally.

"Even if it's the person you're going out with and love?" Her voice resonated again from behind the cars.

That was all it took for me to not want to continue eavesdropping on their conversation. I didn't want to hear his comment back because that last sentence was closure enough. Any more closure and I was sure I would break.

I was taking power strides through the corridors, stopping at certain labs to drop off the evidence that belonged there. I didn't stop to talk to anyone about anything; not the lab technicians, not my colleagues, not a single breathing soul. I felt that if I were to stop, the tears that I just left behind would catch up with me and capture me. I had to save that for later when I was out of the sight of civilization... Or at least until I could access an empty bathroom.

I'd delivered all evidence in a speedy record time, with ample time left over that I couldn't afford to have. But rather than walk around the halls without a purpose and risk acting oddly, I decided I should attempt to delete the nagging thought out of my mind. My mind could only conjure up the thought that a cup of coffee would help - as nasty as the lab's coffee was.

Just a half of a step down from a jog was the speed I was going at when I entered the relatively calm break room. Nick and Warrick had obvious found the same amount of free time between their case to sit back and play one of Nick's NFL video games. And Greg must've been expecting an update soon as he was looking between his watch and the video game Nick and Warrick were playing, expressing as much enthusiasm as the two guys playing the game were.

Trying to remain unnoticed, I slipped over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. I allowed the steam from the coffee to move past my face as I held the cup close to my face, preparing to sip the boiling hot brew. In a way, I was wishing that somehow the steam would help settle the turmoil called my feelings. I couldn't lose it at work, not now.

How was it possible for me to feel so many feelings at once, yet it is only caused by one person? Jealousy, hurt, anger, sorrow, confusion, and a bunch of other emotions generated from those ones. And that mess could only be made by one man, and one man only; Gil Grissom.

"_Even if it's the person you're going out with and love?" _Her voice floated back through my ears as I just stood there in the break room.

Love? How does a dominatrix, of all people, get _love_? I'd say it's more along the lines of fear instead of love. I mean, truly... A dominatrix makes a career off of making others suffer. You can't _love_ someone that causes you suffering. And if you do, then my only advice is to check yourself into the nearest mental hospital and ask for them to reserve a room for you.

_So, where does that leave Grissom?_ My conscience asked me, bringing back the painful thought.

No... It couldn't be called love. Grissom + a criminal dominatrix just did not equal love to me. Nothing made sense anymore. At least, not in my realm of living it didn't. To anyone else, it might have appeared to just be the mysterious work of life. But just how does a law abiding, intelligent forensic scientist fall in love with a dominatrix that's had multiple run-ins with the law in the past five years? If anyone could make logical sense of that, they'd know more than most of the intellectual beings in this building, which only narrowed it down to everyone on the nightshift and a few of the other lab technicians, such as Archie and Mia.

A wave of jealousy washed over me when I couldn't push the thought away after five minutes. I know life wasn't fair, but this was just plain cruelty! Just how much unfairness does a woman have to put up with until you finally have something good happen to you? Obviously thirty-five years isn't enough for life though...

But then the jealousy inside me abruptly substituted itself with the feeling of the all too familiar feeling of emotional hurt, and a wetness accumulated in my eyes. Biting on my lower lip, I hastily set the cup down and rushed out of the break room to go to the bathroom, ungracefully bumping into two people as I was exiting. I only noticed that one of them was Catherine and that her company was a man. I didn't even want to contemplate the fact of it being Grissom... So, my pace gradually turned from a hasty walk to a jog as I rounded the corner and turned right to go down the hall and all but burst into the hopefully empty bathroom.

Hastily going through all of the stalls to ensure myself that no one else was in the bathroom, I finally let out a pent up sigh. And this just wasn't a sigh with a single characteristic. It was a sigh of exasperation, relief, confusion, and just about every other type of sigh you can think about with the exception of any type of happy one.

As I just stood there in that bathroom, I felt the tears slowly come out, one after another, without a sound and with no hesitation or struggle. I made no attempt to stop them nor encourage them to flow even heavier than they already were. I was turning in light circle in the spot I stood in, my hands on my hips and my line of vision altering from the ceiling to the floor to straight ahead. But that didn't stop the thoughts that were racing through my mind.

What _endearing_ quality did thatsorry excuse for a woman have that I did? And I hardly ever put anything about myself on a pedestal, but truly... When you compare me to _her_, a woman that had left a man within inches of his life by being whipped to death, I hadn't thought the decision would be that tough. It amazes me that Grissom would put her on a pedestal, of all people... I just wasn't worth the risk, but she is? My mind just couldn't wrap around the idea. True, I'm not a saint or any great prize, but at least my line of work isn't causing pain to other people in the physical aspect.

The heat in my tears increased at the thought of this really being the end. I sure as Hell didn't want to admit the end, but there's a point in time when you have to just stop. Stop the chasing, stop the fantasizing, stop the desperate wishing, and just overall stop putting your hopes up. Because there's a point where it's healthy, and then there's another point when you've run it into the ground and it's not so healthy. For me, I've been chasing for over a decade now, and I'm just starting to think the time has been expired.

When I stopped turning and looked straight ahead, I was face-to-face with my reflection. A hollow shell of what at one point, used to be a lively and eager to learn Sara Sidle. I hardly recognized this pathetic figure in the mirror, staring back at me with death cold eyes. It felt as is I was back in the autopsy room, staring at Debbie Marlin again, my doppelganger. The figure I saw in the mirror was as close to dead as a living person could get.

Walking toward the reflection, almost in a disbelieving trance, I stared right into my own eyes with a blank look on my face, but the tears were still rolling down my face. After a long couple of moments, my reflection mimicked the look of shame I was directing at it back to me. I was ashamed of my reflection, and it was ashamed of me.

The gates crashed as my falling tears turned into a flood when I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away from the mirror, bearing to look at it any longer. I became more and more unstable with every teardrop, and soon I was silently sobbing. One minute turned to two, and two to three, and three to four, and after five, I lost count of time. And with every minute, my silent sobbing gradually increased to a full blown, loud as a banshee cry. With my crying, my legs were no longer stable enough to hold me up which forced me to lean against the sink's counter for support. When my arms could no longer support my shaking body, I sank down to my knees on the floor and crawled underneath the counter to rest against the wall with my pitiful crying form. I knew there was a God now, because not a soul had entered since I had.

And just as quickly as I had to praise Him, I had to curse him seeing as someone intruded on me.

In a feeble attempt to rebuild the floodgates, I still failed to see who had entered. But it didn't take me that long to figure it out when I heard the voice as it crouched in front of me and in front of my horribly blurred vision.

"Sara? Hey, Sara, what's wrong?" Catherine's voice was, for once, filled with concern for me.

Fiercely rubbing my meandering tears with my sleeves, I tried to hide my face out of humiliation, knowing there was no way I could just suddenly make Catherine forget that I wasn't crying. I found it odd almost, at the thought that it was Catherine who was coming to comfort me. We're not always so compatible with each other, but I guess this moment just went to show me that she wasn't so devoid of compassion for me. Either that, or she was really good at pretending.

"Hey, whatever it is, don't worry about it... Don't even think about it... It's not worth the tears, Sara." She tried to tell me comfortingly, rubbing my bent knees for good measure.

I couldn't believe that I was just sitting here and allowing a woman who I'd butted heads with on more than one occasion to see me in such a vulnerable state of being. Talk about ironic...

It took a couple of minutes to regain my composure, and to my surprise, Catherine was still there at the end. Now, it was either she had something to tell me or she really did actually care about me. I failed to convince myself that she fully cared about me, so I found my voice and cleared my throat before I spoke up.

"Did... Um, did you need to tell me something, Catherine?" I avoided eye contact.

She seemed only slightly shocked that I'd gotten right to business, despite the fact that I was always like that. Only taking a needed couple of seconds to recover, she stood up and offered her hand down to me to help me up. Watching her hand guardedly for a moment or two, as if it were going to harm me in some type of way, I reluctantly took it and stood up, coming out from under the counter.

"Partly, yes... Another part of me was starting to get worried about you. You weren't in the building and you weren't in the field, and no one could find you for this pass hour and a half. You didn't look well when you went running out of the break room and jogging down the hall." She explained in her regular cool voice, slipping back into normal Catherine mode.

I regarded her strangely for a second at the mention of her actually being worried about me. She must've sensed it or knew what I was thinking or something like that because she gave me a soft eye roll.

"Listen Sara... I know we haven't been exactly the best of friends for these past six years, but it's not like I hate you. I do care about you, just like the rest of this team does. I just get a little tired of your stubbornness sometimes, that's all." Catherine told me as she offered me a tissue to wipe my eyes.

"Well, there's news..." I muttered to myself, not wanting her to hear me. "So, what did you need me for? Did we get any results from ballistics or trace?"

"Umm... No." Catherine said point blank. "Actually... You have a visitor. It's a young woman by the name of Brooke Waters. She claims to be your sister... She's right outside of the bathroom." She threw her head back at the door.

My forehead rose to new heights the moment Catherine mentioned that name in utter surprise. But it just couldn't be, though I'd just heard the words come out of her mouth. In a sudden abruptness, I ran to the door and flung it open to reveal the one person I thought I'd never see again in my life.

Brooke Waters...

_**TBC...**_

A/N: So... Yes, that is my pathetic first chapter... I apologize... It was only six pages long... But bear with me here, okay folks? I just got off a very bad Writer's Block... Yes, I write constantly, I just don't post it... Well, in any case, help me with my self-esteem here. Any and all reviewers are welcome. Yes, even you little low-lifes that love to flame. But be warned, you flamers, I don't care about what you say. Not too much hurts my feelings. Just thought I'd warn you before you go and waste your time. Because I will be continuing the story, despite your rude comments. A'ight? I've said my peace. R&R plz!


	2. The Reunion

A/N: Well here's the update! Sorry it took so long to get up though! I mean, seriously, these teachers have got me on lock-down with work and everything... But... I knocked out the guard and managed to get back here to update for all of y'all. So, as your St. Patrick Day gift, I offer you this.

Disclaimer: For the real disclamier, check the last chapter. I'm too lazy... But I will say that I do not own the song, "How Do You Want It". That belongs to none other than the greatest artist to ever live - Tupac Amaru Shakur a.k.a. 2pac! Much love to him and may his soul rest in peace. Oh, and as a warning... If any of you readers out there, for reasons of your own, are sensitive to the "N" word, then let it be known to you that it's only used twice in this chapter and it's in the lyrics. I apologize if it's offending, but please... If I can tolerate being called it all day, I think you can deal with reading it for at least two times. But of course, if this bothers you, don't be afraid to let me know in a review or something. I'll change it.

Chapter 2: The Reunion

Despite the previous tears that had fallen, a smile had appeared in slow motion upon my face at the sight of my old friend. I knew at once that it truly was Brooke, even though Catherine had already told me, because her looks hadn't changed in these past decades.

It was close to twenty years ago since last I saw of her, and yet her image had yet to be burned from my memory. Brooke had to be in her late twenties, about to hit thirty, but she still looked younger, as if she were in her late teens to early twenties. Her Puerto Rican complexion was at its finest, her skin a dark golden brown. Her eyes, which seemed to leap out at anyone, still contained the electric blue gaze in her right and a cool, stony silver color in her left. Hair as black as the night sat in thin cornrows in criss-crosses on the top of her head, then ran straight down the back of her head, the ends held together by individual white beads. And despite being a challenging 5"5, what she lacked in height she made up for in being athletically toned and physically strong.

In my visual observation, my eyes glided quickly over her left cheek, getting snagged briefly on a guilty sight before staring at the ground with a newfound intrigue in my shoes. A white scar tore from the outer corner of her eye diagonally across to the corner of her mouth.

The sight of the scar resurrected memories of that "Hell on Earth" night, but before they could plague my thoughts, another recollection of our previously negative financial position surfaced as well.

Staring back up at her, I noticed with great satisfaction that she appeared to have more money in her pockets. I knew this was true because of all the name brand clothes she had on. It was also evident through the overbearing amounts of jewelry and other accessories that accompanied her clothes. But, being a true tomboy at heart, she didn't allow a single drop of girlyness in her style to say the least.

A simple outfit yet it spoke volumes about her; A plain white T-shirt approximately two sizes too large for her with extra baggy dark blue jeans, gold crypt writing down the out part of her pant legs reading, "Brooklyn". As Broke always said, "A good pair of jeans deserves to have even better looking boots with them." Remaining true to her statement, a new pair of Timberland boots, golden brown with white rubber soles encased her feet untied and the tongue sticking out. A New York Yankees baby blue flat hat sat on her head with the rim going between north and west of her head, leaving most of the left side of her face in the shadow of the rim. In both of her ears were genuine Men's square diamond earrings, gleaming in the lights above her. Down around her neck were several chains, two silver Cuban necklaces - one short and one medium length. Another one where the chain looked as if it could've wrapped around her neck four times with a rather large crucifix made purely out of diamonds. Yet another one that had a diamond chain and a diamond pendant of a pistol with the letters "SBG" inscribed in gold along the grip of it, standing for "Southside Brooklyn Gunners". And the last one that was very recognizable to myself, which was silver dog tags, one saying "Broken Brooklyn Waters" while the other one read "Sizzling Blacktop Sidle". Just then, I felt the light tug that my identical pair of dog tags around my neck, also reminding me of the past.

Going further down, around her wrist was matching Cuban bracelet to match her necklace, one her right hand. On her left, a watch that look like a half of a step down from a Rolex graced the opposing wrist, gleaming from the platinum band and the platinum inside the watch as well. Finally ending at the fingers, several different types of rings adorned her long fingers. But the main rings that stood out were the pinkie rings. They had an old saying back in Brooklyn that said, "You can always tell if someone is wealthy if they hold more money on their pinkies than they do on their neck." And by the looks of those pinkie rings, and not counting the sentimental value of one of her necklaces, the rings were five times the amount of money all of those necklaces combined cost. The left one was a clear diamond, clarity at its peak, while the right was a black diamond, one of the biggest rarities in the diamond industry. Her other rings surely were beautiful and flashy as well, but the pinkie rings were by far the most impressive piece of jewelry she had on.

After all these years of uneasiness, worrying what had become of one of my oldest and dearest friends, I let out a long sigh of relief. The smile I was flashing her only grew bigger as she stood up from leaning against the wall and walked up to me, a small smug smile gracing her own face. Looking down and shaking her head slightly, she let out a small laugh as she embraced me tightly and I her, glad that she was all right for a change.

After an unknown period of time of hugging, we pulled back as Catherine walked out of the bathroom and looked between the two of us. The both of us stared back at her as we waited for someone out of the three of us to talk.

"So... I'll leave you two alone to catch up on whatever... Talk, do whatever..." Catherine said after a quick inhale and exhale of breath, eyes shifting between Brooke and I. "I'll page you if we get anything from trace or if Bobby is done analyzing the bullet in ballistics." Catherine's eyes were trained on me before they quickly switched over to Brooke's. "It was nice meeting you Brooke." She said with a smile just before she walked off.

"Thank you again Ms. Willows!" Brooke called after Catherine, her New York accent strong. Then she turned back to me. "So... You thought you could get rid of me that easily, huh? Didn't think I'd be able to find you again?" She asked jokingly, making it more of a statement than a query.

"No! No, of course not! I never thought you wouldn't be able to find me, but I didn't think you'd bother to." I said, still enveloped in an air of surprise. "God Brooke... How have you been? What have you been doing for these past twenty years or so?" I assaulted her with continuous questions.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Down girl... Take it easy. Don't worry about those questions right now... I'll answer them in time, but first let's go catch up, eh? Let's go have lunch or something? On me. Ain't you due for a lunch break some time soon anyways?" Brooke peered down at her watch before looking back up at me.

"Well... I dunno. I have a case going right now, and we're waiting on test results back..." I thought about the evidence, unintentionally throwing out excuses.

"Aw c'mon Sara! You haven't seen your sister in twenty years, and now you won't even let her take you out to lunch? Man, years ago, we both would've been jumping on that offer even if we were in the middle of something life-altering." She remained me. "C'mon. At least let it be to a fast food joint or something. Someplace not too far away from here if you prefer."

Looking down the corridor and then back at her pleading face with the puppy dog eyes and the pouted lip look, I knew I was going to cave in. That was how she always used to coax me into doing things I didn't wanna do when we were kids, and apparently that didn't change.

"All right. There's a small diner just down the road." I watched as an exultant look washed over her face and she gave me another full smile, flashing her perfectly white teeth. "Walk with me to the desk to tell them I'll be on break and then we'll go."

As we started walking down the halls, our destination the front desk and Judy, Brooke tossed a look my way with that triumphant smirk still on her face. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my puppy dog face plus the pouty lip. You couldn't do it to save your life."

"Okay, so you got me there." I admitted, looking over at her.

It seemed like a relatively short walk because before I knew it, I was slightly leaning over the desk and telling Judy that I'd be back in forty-five minutes because I was on break. Walking out of the building, my eyes squinted against the sun that sat ablaze in the sky, casting dark shades of orange and reddish colors as it neared sunset. Removing my sunglasses from my pocket, I placed them over my eyes before looking down at Brooke.

"Which car are we talking? Yours or mine?" One could automatically assume that if she had that much money invested in her clothes and jewelry, surely she had a car of sorts.

"Let's take mine. I want you to meet my baby..." She said proudly as she guided me through the parking lot.

I couldn't believe my eyes when she stopped in front of the car she claimed to be hers...

A Nissan Skyline sat in the parking space, sitting pretty and clean. The whole car was a sleek black with red and orange flames shooting across the sides in a unique fashion that certainly suited Brooke to the letter. Along the hood were portraits starting from my left to right of Tupac Amaru Shakur, Aaliyah, Lisa "Left Eye" Lopez, and Chris Wallace a.k.a. Biggie Smalls, all famous deceased artists in the Hip Hop/Rap genre. All of her favorite artists. Below their portraits were their names writing in a fine cursive script, in gold, and below that was more cursive writing, much larger than the previously mentioned writing, saying, "Gone but never forgotten." Behind the portraits was a brilliant fire and the portraits were done in such a manner that it appeared as if the flames were reflecting light onto the backs of their heads.

As I walked to the driver side of the car, taking in the side of the car with awe in my eyes and facial expression. On top of the original black paint, the orange and reddish flames were painted on alone the side, spelling the acronym "THUG LIFE" in the flames rather artistically. My hand glided across the words as I remembered the extremely small tattoo upon my right hip that read the same acronym above a cross standing on a grassy knoll in front of a setting sun, its shadow apparent. Brooke should've had a similar tattoo on her left hip, unless she got it removed. However, the probability of that was slim to nothing, because it meant too much to the both of us.

Passing along to the back of the car, I stepped back a few footsteps to look down at the back. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to the special exhaust pipes designed for nitrogen. Somehow, the concept never surprised me that Brooke would be the person to have a full tank of nitrogen in her car or motor bike. Nitrogen was considered an "insurances" around the parts we grew up in. Yeah right... An insurance to escape the police and an insurance to get in a car accident is the idiot driving doesn't know how to properly drive a car going at speeds faster than light. Of course, when it was either Brooke or myself behind the wheel, it was a guarantee of the first kind of insurance.

The design in the back was the same as the rest of the car. Black with the orange and red flames from the sides of the car, ending along the back, encasing the three words, "Broken Brooklyn Waters" which was in a baby blue inscription this time. Also figured that she'd be conventional when anything had to be in her name that she'd make the color baby blue. It was her favorite color after all.

Winding back up the other side, noticing that it was the same as the driver's side with the acronym and the flames. After getting the full overview of the car, I returned to Brooke's side, identically crossing my arms over my chest like she was. Simultaneously, we looked at each other, my eyes gleaming deviously and hers smugly.

Tossing the keys up in the air, I caught them with a wide smile. "Let's see if you still got it, Sizzle B."

Brooke and I switched paths, her going to the passenger's side and myself to the driver's side. Opening up the door and placing myself inside the plush seat, I was quick to readjust the seat as my knees were up to my chest from how close the seat was to the steering wheel. What did I expect? She was exactly close to my height... As she'd put it, she was "vertically challenged".

The interior of the car was just as impressive as the exterior. Though I cringed at the thought of leather, I even had to admit that the seat went above and beyond comfortable. They were the kind of seats you could just sink into and let your problems sink away with you, at least for that moment.

The CD player's chrome caught my eye quickly as I relaxed in the seat, after starting the car with the keys. Leaning forward slightly, I went to hit play as it read, "CD READY" across the digital screen. But Brooke had grabbed my wrist before my fingers could even reach the button.

"Haven't even started the introductions and you're already looking to touch my baby's buttons? How rude Sara!" Brooke said, mockingly appalled. "Common courtesy is everything, my dear, dear Sara... So, Sara... This be my pride and joy, Shorty."

I couldn't control the eye roll at her silliness before another smile came across my face. That seemed _so_ original coming from Brooke, but I let it slide.

"Anything else I need to know about Shorty?" I asked, decided just to play along.

"Okay... The Tour of Shorty..." Brooke began. There was a pause as I awaited a ridiculous explanation of the car, but when there was none, I looked back at her. "Well, here she is! She ain't that big!" Brooke laughed. "All you gotta know... Don't ever hit this button..." She indicated a small red button to the right of the steering wheel. "Let's just say that puts a flame under her butt when things get hot from the PoPo on the blacktop."

"Nitrogen boost." I repeated, but in a much simpler explanation.

"Would you expect anything else?" She looked at me with an arched eyebrow.

"Never." I smirked at her.

After an almost moment of silence, only disturbed by Brooke's laughing, I reached for the stereo again. Just before I hit Play, was when Brooke decided to give me the warning, but it was almost too late.

"Cover your ea..." She never got to finish the sentence though.

_How do you want it?_

_How do you feel?_

_C'min up as a nigga in the cash game_

_I'm living in the fast lane_

_I'm for real..._

_How do you want it?_

_How do you feel?_

_C'min up as a nigga in the cash game_

_I'm living in the fast lane_

_I'm for real..._

The damage was already done and soon I thought I had lost my hearing. Without a doubt, I should've expected something like this to happen. Brooke was always someone to have things loud. Loud music, loud stereo systems, loud voice... Everything about her was just forthrightly loud and well announced. And this song was just loud enough to fit into her profile. "How Do You Want It" by 2pac, a classic song by him, might I add.

Between the bass and just how loud the actual stereo was, the car didn't need hydraulics to be installed. The car was literally bouncing by itself. It took a little time but then my ears got acclimated to the volume. Why didn't I just turn the volume down, some might ask. Well, this was just the kind of release I apparently needed from my thoughts

_TBC_

A/N2: Well, there you go. I hope to get updates up more frequently, but I'm not promising anything. Sorry... And I'm just tryna get this story up and running, so bear with me for a couple more chapters. Then everything gets unpredictable!

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY! AND DON'T GET TOO WASTED OUT THERE!


	3. The Cafe

A/N: Okay, here's the third chapter. I know, this is kinda going along slowly. So shoot me! I'm guilty as sin, but I promise you that it will pick up soon. Then you'll see _why_ one of the genres is action/adventure. Right now, I'm just introducing things, letting you get a feel for the new character that I introduce here.

Disclaimer: I'm just a poor person! I own nothing! Sometimes, I'm not even sure if I own my own mind! So what makes you think I have the power to possess CSI or any of its wonderful characters? Though I wouldn't mind it at the very least, but whatever... ;-)...

Chapter 3: The Café

Sara's POV

"So I see that wild driving side to you still hasn't left, huh? You totally killed my tires just by driving out of the parking space! They're bare as a baby's behind." Brooke laughed upon enter the small and quaint cafe.

"Well, I'm not sure about _wild_... Wild would imply that it's out of control, and my driving is completely in control. I haven't gotten in a car accident once in my life." I stated proudly as we seated ourselves in the far back at an open booth.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say sis... You better knock on wood right now, because I don't want my car to be in the junkyard on the drive back because of you jinxing yourself." Brooke warned me playfully, passing me a menu once she took one for herself.

I shook my head at the thought of how superstitious the young woman in front of me was sometimes. Opening the small menu that the diner offered, my eyes immediately darted to the sandwich section, scoping out the vegetarian dishes. Not seeing anything worth while, my eyes went over to a vegetarian wrap, which I knew they had. Nodding my head to myself, I closed the menu and set it aside, satisfied.

"Damn that was quick! What, did you just decide to order everything?" Brooke looked at me over her menu, an amused look crossing her face.

Trying to hide a smirk, I replied with slight laughter in my voice. "No... I just know what I want. I've gone vegetarian, for your information. I can't stand the thought of eating any meat anymore."

"Say WHA?" Brooke immediately dropped her menu on the table and gawked at me disbelievingly, her mouth agape. "Who came and whacked you with a veggie stick? When we were little, I always saw you gnawing on a beef jerky stick or a Slim Jim!"

"Well, if you have to know, it was actually my boss's fault... You see, he and I were working this case where..." My voice dropped mid-sentence, my tone of voice being almost proud as I spoke of Grissom. Then the recollection of earlier today, hit me again. I mentally shook myself and tried to recover for the unexpected pause, clearing my throat for a lame excuse. "Excuse me... We were working a case were this lady had gotten killed by her husband and dumped up in the mountain. Well, we both knew that the husband was guilty as sin, but we couldn't prove it..." And I continued to rattle off the main factors of the case, talking of how my temper flew up at Scott Shelton, and how I assisted Grissom on his vigil with the pig. I explained how after seeing the flies and larvae infest the poor pig, I vowed to never eat another piece of meat ever again.

"Wow! Steel-Stomach Sidle was defeated by a decaying pig? Man, I'd known that way back when, I could've won that bet we made with each other." Brooke commented as a waiter walked up to us, at long last.

"What could I get for you two ladies?" He smiled courteously at myself and then Brooke. "Could I start you off with anything to drink?"

"Just water please, and I'd like a vegetarian wrap please." I ordered.

"All the same for me." Brooke said, as the waiter looked her way.

"All right then. Two waters and two vegetarian wraps it is then. They'll be up shortly." The waiter flashed another smile just before he left.

Amazed, I stared at Brooke who had, yet again, a smug look on her face. "Surprise, surprise Sizzle B. You aren't the only one that turned into a leaf eater."

"And you comment on how _I_ used to eat everything! I can't believe this!" I claimed in sure amazement. "When? _Why_?"

"Okay, okay... It's a bet. But I'm _still _going through with it, so it count, a'ight?" She told me. "One more week and I'll win the bet. The guy I made a bet with said I couldn't last a whole month without meat, and I bet against him."

"And have you kept completely up with that bet?" I asked knowingly.

"Hell no!" She said shortly with a brighter smile on her face as we both shared a laugh at that.

After a moment of calming down, I realized I hadn't smiled this much in one day, let alone laugh, for the longest while. Months, years, whatever it was, it was a long time ago. And I'd nearly forgotten how Brooke had always been able to put a smile on my face and laughter in my voice from all those years ago. I smiled once more at the thought that now that Brooke was back, maybe now I'd be able to be happier.

The ever-smiling waiter returned promptly, our meal in hand. Setting it before us, he gave us a smile just before a left, murmuring a, "Enjoy your meal." comment over his shoulder as he left.

Brooke stared after him for a second more with an arched eyebrow. "I can't help but think that he's off something. _Nobody_ smiles that much or that nice without having a good reason."

"Who knows? Maybe he got lucky last night?" I chuckled as I picked up the wrap and took a bite out of it.

"Well, judging by his looks, I'd normally say 'No'. I mean, the kid looks five times worse than Michael Jackson with his pet It he calls a nose." She said in a hushed tone. "But then again, this _is_ Vegas. And _anything_ can happen in Vegas." Brooke commented as she took a large bite out of her wrap.

I had to admit Brooke was right. The kid _did_ look worse than Michael Jackson with his pet thing he calls a nose. Of course, I wasn't about to say it out loud.

We ate in peace for several minutes, and I stared across the table to see her chewing rather distastefully on the wrap. She'd turned away more than once to spit the contents into a napkin furtively and then turn back, as if I didn't know what she was doing. Managing to at least get half way, she tossed the wrap back on the plate and sat back with an exhale of breath, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What?" I asked with a smirk.

"How can you _live_ _off that_? Clear that up for me, because I just don't get it. How can you live off of eating rabbit food? Especially when it tastes like it's been used for toilet paper first for flavoring?" I tried to not gag at the thought, but it worked to no effect and I soon reciprocated her action of placing the wrap back on the plate, sitting back in my seat.

Laughing while gagging proved to not be a good combination for me because I didn't know what to do. Either laugh or gag.

"Thanks... Thanks Brooke. I really needed that image." I said sarcastically.

"Anytime there sis! That's what sister are there for! And just think, where would you be without me?" Brooke said in a mockingly ecstatic voice.

"Well, right now I _would _be eating, if it wasn't for your... comment." For a lack of words, I chose to say "comment".

"Guess you won't be c'min back here any time soon, eh?" She took a sip of water, eyes still fixed on me.

"Nice try with the Canadian accent, but it doesn't work on a black person, sorry to tell you." I taunted her about the fake accent, and she gave me a fake pout to go along with it.

Just then, a beeper went off, and we both looked down at our waists. Seeing nothing, I figured it must've been hers. And judging by the way her face seemed to be fixed on a slightly shocked expression, I had confirmed that theory. She shifted in her seat so that she could reach into her pocket to retrieve something, which turned out to be her cellphone. Looking up at me for a quick second, she indicated to wait one second as she turned around to make this "urgent" phone call.

"What is so important that you have to contact me right now?" Brooke said in a quiet whisper, sounding agitated now.

I took a sip of the water, the condensation on the outside of the glass getting my hand wet. I tried not to listen in on her conversation, but I was naturally curious.

There was a garbled speech over the line, the voice in a very deep tone and sounding like a male. Loud music and people screaming with joy could be heard in the background of the conversation.

_A party or a concert_,I thought.

"You're shitting me..." Brooke said in a now lighter voice, no longer agitated by the mysterious man on the other end. "Right now? I can't do it right now! I'm out with my sister!" There was a pause as the man spoke back. "Yeah, easy for you to say... Listen, do I really need to be there? Is there no other way you can get the sub?" She asked, in a desperate sort of tone now. "What do you mean he 'vanished'? People just can't magically poof into nothing there buddy." More garbled dialogue. "Yeah, yeah... I figured that too. He really never knew how to take care of himself, so that wouldn't surprise me if that's what happened." Brooke's voice was slightly sad as the man replied, slightly panicked. "A'ight, a'ight... Give me fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Where are you?" There was a relieved reply as he told her the address to some place. "Wow! Way the Hell out there? They sure know how to pick the spots." Brooke spoke sarcastically. "A'ight. See you there, and leave a piece for me!" She said shortly just before she hung up.

She placed the phone back in her pocket and settled back into her seat, taking in a cleansing breath and letting it go as she looked back at me innocently. As if I hadn't heard her side of the conversation.

"The job?" I took a shot in the dark.

"Yeah, I wasn't supposed to work until later in the night, but the sub decided to take a leave and now they need me." She explained in a very vague and evasive kind of way.

"Well, I won't keep you. If you need to get going, we can. Besides, I need to check for updates on my case." I said, already grabbing my coat and shifting out of my seat.

As I slid on my jacket, Brooke stood up and stretched for a solitary moment. Before my coat was fully on, Brooke had stacked both plates and grouped the now empty glasses next to them, after she gulped down the remains of her water. As I was about to put a twenty on the table, Brooke swatted away my hand and put money of her own down - a replica of my twenty dollar bill. Prepared to leave now, we walked back out to the parking lot and I got back into the driver's seat.

Driving along the road back to the lab, it was silent with the exception of the deafening stereo system. I actually dreaded going back to the lab this one time, in fear of having to face Grissom or anyone else in that building. Especially Catherine, the Queen of Gossip, who was more than likely to try and pry information out of me about a number of things. But then again, life is filled with a lot of things you don't want to do but must still go through with. But that didn't stop the sigh from escaping my lips as I pulled into the lab's parking lot.

Exiting the car but still lingering at the window, I waited for Brooke to roll down the window after scooting over the divider of the seats to claim the driver's seat. I watched as she re-adjusted her seat back to her comfortable level and relaxed in the seat, staring back up at me.

"Well, it was great seeing you again after all this time, Brooke. Thanks for taking me out to eat, even if I didn't really eat that much after your moment of thinking out loud." I smirked as she grinned wildly.

"Hey, don't expect anything but the truth from me, girly..." She told me with a wagging finger as she made haste to find a pen and paper from the glove compartment. She scribbled on it quickly and passed it out the window to me. "Here... Call me sometime later tonight."

"I get off work in the mornings." I informed her briefly.

"Even better! I can take you out to breakfast and try to make up for this meal!" She said.

"Hmm, we'll see... I'll call you as I'm driving home." I promised her.

"Sounds like a plan, sis. For now, I've gotta go chase that money trail." Brooke said as she put on her sunglasses.

"Well, a wise man once said, 'Make the money. Don't let the money make you'." I said as I backed away from the car slightly.

"Yeah, but another wise man also said, 'If you aren't a paper chaser, then I'll tell you what you _will_ be. You'll be on the corner with a tin can saying that you'll work for food.'" She said.

"That wasn't a wise man. That was the neighborhood's resident crack dealer." I said with only a slight frown.

"True, but at least at the end of the day, he wasn't the one sitting at home with no food in his stomach. And if he managed to find a way to beat that routine, unlike the rest of us that lived in that slum, than he must've been some type of wise man." Brooke shrugged as she waved goodbye, rolling up the window. "Talk to you later Sar..."

Giving a small wave of goodbye, I observed as she peel out of the parking lot and skid onto the road sharply, just before darting off down the road with the stereo on blast. I shook my head as I walked back inside the building. And as I checked back in with the office, I couldn't help but smile once more.

_And she complains about **me **killing her tires?_

_TBC_

A/N2: Okay... So, here's the boring third chapter. And yes, I was evasive of Brooke's job for a reason. Don't worry. It will all piece itself together in due time. Soo, now here comes your part. Hit me up with a review! C'mon, you KNOW you wanna! C'mon... C'mon lil' fella! You can do it! I have faith in you! But nah, seriously... Tell me what you think. Tell me what you think about the new character, Brooke. C'mon, I can handle the truth! I ain't no sissy!


	4. Confusion

A/N: Okay... So here's the next chapter. As you can tell by my randomness for the most part of this chapter, I didn't have much to go on. I just winged it and this is what I came up with. I'm working on the fifth chapter already, and I'd like to thank all of the reviewers that keep on reviewing! It means a lot to me. So thanks, with a capital T!

Disclaimer: Begins to speak. I... Stops and shakes head. YOU WANT A DISCLAIMER! GO TO THE OTHER CHAPTERS! Walks away mad that she doesn't own CSI or any of its wonderful characters

Chapter 4: Confusion

"Hey there! Have a nice break with your sister?" Catherine asked as I entered the break room.

"Yes. But she had to get going..." I paused, hovering next to the sewage water that we called the break room's coffee. "The job."

"That seems to get the best of us all, huh?" She said with a small smile that I could tell was forced right away.

I gave no reply as I forced myself to pour the sludge that we called coffee into a cup and then forced it down my throat. Somehow, the brew just seemed to be at its personal worst today, but I kept it down, though looking at the cup with utter disgust.

_Where's Greg when I need him?_ I thought to myself and Greg's famous Blue Hawaiian.

"So... I never knew you had a sister... Especially of a different color." Catherine began the process of prying for information.

"Uh huh..." I said absent mindedly, taking another forced sip.

_Maybe I'll bribe Greg for some... _I began to scheme mischievously.

"Is she even your sister?" Catherine asked, apparently now taking more interest in me than the magazine her hand.

"No." I subconsciously said.

_I don't even have to go down the path of bribery... Blackmail is also an option. I could always tell Grissom about the time Greg stole some of his Red Creeper Print Powder... _I recalled Greg's reaction the day when I caught him sneaking into Grissom's office to get the powder.

"Then how do you know her?" Her eyes were now completely fixed on me, attention undivided unfortunately enough.

"Do you know where Greg is right now?" I asked suddenly, pouring the contents of the wannabe coffee into the sink, fed up with the questioning as well as the coffee.

"Are you being purposely evasive of my question?" Catherine asked in an almost surprised tone.

I turned around to look at her, disbelieving how much the woman in front of me loved to pry for information. Realizing there was no joke to be made or any humor in the situation at all, I turned around once more to throw out my cup and I made my way out of the break room.

_Never mind... I'll just go find him myself._ I told myself as I walked down the halls in search of Greg and his Blue Hawaiian.

Finding him in the locker room, hanging up his jacket and vest, he barely noticed me as I entered the room. I simply leaned up against the lockers and waited for him to acknowledge my presence by himself. He was so oblivious to me that he began to sing to the song, Animals by Nickleback. And just when I thought he'd _never_ realize I was there, he turned around and jumped with a start at the sight of me.

"Sara! Wow, I didn't know you could magically appear out of thin air now! You truly do defy the scientific laws of nature." He said as he closed the door to his locker. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to hear your rendition of Animals by Nickleback." I smirked at him.

"Ah, so you've finally got a taste of my musical talents then? You know, I usually pay per view, but since it is you, I suppose this time it could be on the house." Greg said as he prepared to exit the locker room, myself walking with him. "But what is it that you want my dear Sara? I know you didn't just find me to listen to my musical skills."

"You're right. I came to borrow your coffee." I told him as we turned the corner, going toward the A/V lab.

"Aw c'mon Sara! You _know_ this is my last batch until a couple months! You're asking me to simply pass out free Blue Hawaiian? That's like selling my soul!" Greg looked at me with a pitiful glance.

"Well, unless you want a particular supervisor finding out that you stole some of his Red Creeper Print Powder, I don't think that's too much to ask for." I tried to conceal the smile that came upon my face.

Greg stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me with incredulity. "You wouldn't _dare_."

"Don't dare me, Greg... I just might do it." I said. "So what's it going to be? Blue Hawaiian or busted?"

After a few moments of quiet grumbling, Greg turned back and ushered me back to the locker room. He glared back at me as he opened his locker back up and lifted the bottom of his locker up. I was only half surprised to see that Greg had a small safe in there which he pulled out and set down on the bench. Spinning the dial around several times to make the combination to the safe, Greg opened it and revealed a brown bag of his infamous Blue Hawaiian. Still, only half of me was surprised that Greg actually kept his coffee in a safe hidden in the bottom of his locker.

Grudgingly handing the bag over, I took it from his hands and smiled at him smugly. "Thank you Greg. You made the right choice, trust me."

"You fight dirty, Sara. You're a dirty fighter!" He accused me childishly.

"That maybe true, but I'm still the one holding the Blue Hawaiian right now, aren't I?" I told him as I walked out of the locker room, hoping Catherine had left the break room.

I was grateful when I entered an empty break room. I walked over to the coffee machine and began to process of making a new brew of actual coffee.

Once I was replenished with caffeine from actual coffee, it was just in time to get a beep from Bobby, and by now, half of the shift was gone. I hadn't realized that until I checked the ballistic's lab clock.

3:00 a.m.

The information that the bullet belonged to a Smith & Wesson standard issue was about the most useful information I got all night. Nothing was happening in Trace, and come to find out, there were dozen upon dozens of people in the vicinity of Greater Las Vegas that owned Smith & Wesson's. At least half of them were within a two-mile radius of the victim's location.

I could only opt to meander around the lab aimlessly. And dodge everyone I knew, or at least my team. Especially Grissom. The last thing I wanted and needed was to see him. I had passed him more than once and ducked into a nearby room as to not be seen by him. Childish, I know, but sometimes that's just the way he made me feel when he was near...

Childish.

Finally when my feet became sore and my eyelids were beginning to drag along the floor, I decided I was in another need of coffee. I could only hope it wasn't all taken yet.

_Everyone hates slow nights for a reason. They make you feel so tired..._ I told myself as I turned the corner for a straight shot to the break room.

Filling up another cup, after thankfully discovering the coffee had remained untouched since I left it, I took a few sips and decided it would be too risky to stay in the break room, lest Catherine or anyone else stop by. Unfortunately, I had the pleasure of bumping into the second worse person in the building right now besides Grissom...

Ecklie.

And by bumping into him, it was in quite the literal sense.

"Sidle!" He hollered out as my precious coffee spilt all over his lousy pink shirt. What a waste of great coffee, especially since it was Ecklie!

This scene could've been either very serious or very humorous to me at the same time. On a professional level, this was serious considering Ecklie and myself have never been on good terms and spilling coffee on him, even accidentally, does nothing to form any truce between us. On the other side of a personal level, this was very humorous to see the shocked look on his face and to see him rushing to brush off the coffee and burning his hands in the process.

At this point, I was far from willing to offer him any assistance other than to step aside to let him pass. He looked at me questioningly in between frantically wiping off hot coffee from his attire. How a man like Ecklie managed to get into college, let alone finish high school, with as much intelligence and common sense as he does now continues to amaze me, even six years after meeting him. People call Grissom an enigma... Well, Conrad Ecklie's intelligence was ten times more of an enigma than Grissom will ever be and is downright questionable. Has been in the past, continues to be now, and more than likely will remain that way for the rest of his life.

"Sidle, _what are you doing?_" He asked in a growl.

I couldn't help a slight shake of my head as I walked away, not baring to be in his presence much longer. "It doesn't take a lot of brain cells to know how to handle this situation. You go to the closest water source and wash it off." I mumbled under my breath, slightly annoyed.

"You aren't even going to _apologize_?" He called at me as I turned the corner and walked away from the scene, oblivious to my previous comment.

I turned around in disbelief, not truly believing that _he_ wanted _me_ to _apologize_. I could've snapped right then and there. I _wanted_ to walk up and dump the rest of my coffee on him and watch him squirm in the same place like an idiot not knowing what to do about a coffee spill. But getting in trouble with Ecklie was the last thing I needed or wanted right now, and then have to get Grissom involved.

So, by not shooting back on of the many nasty comments that I already had in a mental list about several miles long, I simply walked away. Not as gratifying, but at least it didn't get me directly in trouble. Although, knowing Ecklie, it wouldn't surprise me if he found someway to get me in trouble just by walking away.

Thankfully, the remainder of the shift was spent silently and with no more collisions of any sort. Not a sight of Grissom or the rest of the team with the exception of passing Nick in the hallway as I made my way to the bathroom. But that was only a simple greeting and nothing more. Boredom had me checking the time every half an hour or so up until it was the last hour of shift, 6:00 a.m.. Then I was checking the time every five minutes or so.

I nearly had to force myself to not break into a run for the locker room the second I realized shift was over. For the first time in a long time, I was heading home _on time_. For once, I _didn't_ want to go into overtime for shift. I fished around for the piece of paper with Brooke's number on it as my other hand dug out my cellphone from my pocket. Upon entering the locker room where all the good reception was, I began dialing the number to her cellphone.

_Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Consecutive rings in a row and Brooke wasn't picking up. I hoped she was sleeping or busy working, whatever her job may be. But she _had_ told me to call her after I got off of work and she _was_ aware of what time I got off.

Her voicemail was the only reply I got to the successive ringing. "_Hey, hey y'all. This your girl Ms. B and though you may not know where I be, how about y'all grace thee with short message, okay G? And here's my thanks, with a capital T. Peace!_"

I couldn't refrain from smirking at her original message. "Hey Brooke. It's Sara. I'm just leaving work now. Talk to you later. And by the way, I _love_ your poem there. Bye."

I collected my jacket from the locker and closed it prior to exiting the locker room and exiting the lab completely, going out the back to get to my car. What a big mistake that was.

Stopping at my car to get out my keys, I heard an all too familiar voice float through my ears that made my spine just tingle. But it wasn't in a good way.

"How was work tonight?" Lady Heather asked, her voice in a short distance from myself.

"Slow. I didn't have much to do. Paperwork mostly." Grissom's voice followed in a reply.

"Let's go home then. Have breakfast. You look hungry." Lady Heather said just as they came into view, side-by-side.

I sunk behind my car, watching as they got to the front of Grissom's car and faced each other. Grissom seemed to have a confused look on his face while Lady Heather's remained blank. After several seconds, he slowly nodded his head and reached into his pockets. He seemed even more confused when he began patting his pockets, most likely at a loss for his keys.

"Did you forget your keys?" Heather prompted the question.

"I must've left them on my desk. I'll be right back." Grissom claimed as he turned back in the direction that he came and semi-jogged back.

As Heather turned around to watch him go, I took the chance to get into my car and drive off. Quietly closing my driver door, I put the keys in the ignition and started it. Or at least, _attempted_. It wouldn't start. Turning it again, already having attracted Lady Heather's attention because of the noise, it was to no avail once again. Over and over I turned the key, yet the car didn't start as I prayed it would. And all the while, the woman's penetrating eyes didn't leave me alone. Agitated by both the car and the woman, I turned the keys more frantically, already knowing it wouldn't work, but still attempting stubbornly.

When the full realized donned on me, I sat back with a aggravated huff and pulled out my cellphone again and was about to press redial when suddenly, I heard a loud stereo system drawing closer. I got out of the car and walked toward the street and the entrance of the lab's parking lot. I hadn't noticed Grissom had returned because my eyes were set on the car zooming down the street at twice the speed of the other cars.

Brooke's car came to a skidding halt several feet in front of me, doing a 180 degree rotation in the process. As she rolled down the window, the system's music only amplified itself to an even more deafening volume, if that was possible. I was shocked to see that there were several bleeding cuts on her face and blood was trickling softly from her nose and mouth. She looked like she had the crap kicked out of her.

"C'mon! Get in! Hurry!" She urged quickly and with urgency as she rolled the window back up.

Knowing she was serious, I rushed to the other side and jumped into the passenger seat, only catching a glimpse of Grissom and Heather. Heather was remaining emotionless while Grissom was sporting an overly confused look for the third time in five minutes. Good. At least I wasn't the only one who was confused now.

_TBC_

A/N2: So... Yeah, like I said. RANDOMNESS! Haha... Didn't have much, so I hope at least someone liked this chapter. I'm trying not to bring this along too slowly but I'm trying to get in gear. Damn school. It LOVES to bring me down... Hmph... Well, anyways, you know what to do. REVIEW! Please and thank you!

Peace out, one love,

MC New York


	5. Surprises In Everyway

A/N: OMG I'm SOO sorry for taking SOO long to update this! Ugh, my stupid computer like killed the disc that had the chapter all written up on it and then I had to start all over because the only other thing I for this story didn't have this chapter updated in it. And then every time I got going with it, the stupid computer decided to go even more stupid and crash on me or freeze. I swear, I will have so much fun burning and busting up this computer when it because completely obsolete in about a year and a half. But anyways, you're not here to listen to me rant and rave about this idiotic excuse of technology I call my computer, you're here to read. So, enjoy! And don't kill me for going along so slowly! Blame my Mother!

Disclaimer: I refuse... Look at the other chapters... :-P

Chapter 5: Surprises In Everyway 

The ride for the previous fifteen minutes was spent in silence, except for the radio. It had all transpired so quickly that the fifteen minutes were spent for my thoughts to catch up with the speeding car I was trapped in.

I willed for my voice to work, to tell my raging sister beside me to calm down and slow down while she was at it. We were flying down the Strip at twice the speed of the other cars. There was no help for her if she were to get stopped by Highway Patrol. And there would be no help for either of us if this fury she's driving with landed us both in a ditch or dead. But I trusted her enough to at least not crash unless it was someone else crashing into us.

Slowly, I felt the shock relinquishing its power over my mind and body, and I recalled Brooke's physical appearance before she commanded me into the car. I looked over to her to inspect her face again to either confirm or refute what I had previously seen.

Unfortunately, it did more than confirm.

I didn't see much until we passed under nearby streetlamps but it was enough. Aside from the blood leaking from her nose and mouth, there were multiple bruises and gashes disfiguring her face. Her right cheek had spawned an impossibly deep bruise that engulfed a good portion of the right side of her face and seemed to originate from the even larger lump directly on her right cheekbone. Brooke's right eye was also swallowed up by the bruise, appearing as if it took a world of pain just to keep open. It was barely open as it was, but Brooke seemed to be managing.

Several gashes showed up around her face, leaking blood as well. But the biggest one ran directly across her temple along her right side of her face. I could see small shards of glass stuck into the wound and were aggravating it even more every time Brooke blinked seeing as how dangerously close the gash was to her eye.

Grimacing to myself, I allowed my eyesight to travel down the length of her arms to Brooke's hands, checking for offensive wounds. On Brooke, I knew that if she were involved in any type of physical violence, there would always be offensive wounds. Brooke didn't disappoint me.

In all my years as an experienced CSI and living through every kind of case there was to see, not much seemed to surpass this gory scene. On her right fist, which was tightly clenched around the steering wheel, it was impossible to see any kind of skin. It was either non-existent or covered in blood. Along her knuckles, the skin was split wide open on more layers of the skin than it was healthy for. The bone itself were clearly visible and kept ripping through the thin layer of surviving skin that remained every time Brooke re-gripped the steering wheel. Blood streamed down her arm from the open wound and she only scrunched her sleeve up to prevent the blood from staining her clothes although it dripped onto her seat and down the steering wheel.

On her left hand, less serious scratches and scrapes scarred her knuckles. They appeared as if they were rubbed raw against tar or a brick wall over and over. Yet more blood appeared underneath her hand this time, so I knew that it was the underside that was more damaged on her left hand.

Blood, blood, and yet even more blood.

"Brooke... You need to calm down and pull over." I managed to speak at long last.

She remained unmoving and fixed on the road, increasing her speed ever-so-slightly.

"_Brooke_... Pull... over..." I ordered again.

Still more demoralizing silence that thickened the tension in the car.

"_Now Brooke_." I used the firmest voice I could muster.

The only reaction I got out of her was re-gripping the wheel and stepping on the gas pedal even harder.

Though I hardly worked on impulses, this was one of those exceptional times considering there was a heavy traffic build-up just ahead. I reached over and grabbed the wheel, yanking it toward myself and veering the car into an empty parking lot of a music store. Fighting over control for the car, Brooke tugged on the wheel as well, in the opposite direction. The car kept driving in a circular formation until I lost my grip and the car changed course for the store itself. Brooke slammed on the brakes just before we went crashing through the door and we jerked forward. We both sat there catching our breaths at the close call, not daring to move.

The stillness seemed to last forever but I jumped when I heard Brooke open her door and slam it shut as she exited the car. She was beyond angry now.

Exiting after her, I briskly walked around the car and took after Brooke who was in a fast trot. Not only did she need medical attention, but she also couldn't be alone when she was like this. Just like in the past, I knew it would only prove to be a dangerous interaction between Brooke and the public.

Just how I was going to get her to correspond with me, however, I hadn't yet devised a plan for that.

"Brooke!" I called after her.

She ignored me as I slowly caught up to her. _Fine Brooke... If you wanna play like that, I'll just have to do this the hard way. I just hope you don't take a swing at me._ I thought to myself as I prepared to calm her down.

Reaching out, I latched onto her shirt and yanked her backwards to the ground. Brooke's balance came into play and the only thing my action managed to do was make her stumble backwards. I braced myself, not knowing what she would do while she was in this state of mind. Brooke may have been shorter, but she was far more powerful than I will ever be.

Before my eyes, I saw the anger course through her and flash precariously inside her eyes like a wild fire. If it was anyone else I was facing, I would either be running or preparing to fight, but this was Brooke. She wouldn't hurt me, or at least, that was the way it was all those years ago. Brooke couldn't have changed that much in that amount of time, could she?

"Brooke, c'mon... It's me, Sara. Just calm down and tell me what's wrong." I persuaded as I stepped closer to her when all we did was stand there staring each other down.

For a second, I honestly couldn't tell if Brooke was about to lash out at me as I came within arm's length or not. But as I drew closer I saw the fire shrivel up and die down and just as fast as it had all occurred, Brooke dropped to her knees and remained stationary.

Kneeling down in front of her now, I waited for her to speak up for the longest time. It got to the point where I thought she'd never speak. But she spoke up at the last minute.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine." Brooke murmured.

"How many times have I heard and said that lie?" I asked to no one in particular. "I don't know how you can sit there and say that. I can see the blood, your face, and your hands. That doesn't say 'fine' to me."

"That's fine. Nothing I'm not used to." I was surprised to hear her say that.

"Who did this to you, Brooke? What are you getting yourself into this time?" I pressed.

"Sara! It's nothing! I'm fine! If you wanna help out, you'll get a needle and thread out and help me stitch my hand back together." Brooke barked out as she got up and started to walk back to her car.

Getting to my feet as well, I went off after her once again and caught up to her in the car as she started to rummage through her glove compartment. I swung open the passenger door and got back in just as she closed the glove compartment with a sewing needle and basic thread in hand.

"No way Brooke. You need to go to the hospital for that. There's no way the needle and thread will work for that!" I told her as Brooke managed to get the thread through the small hole of the needle.

"Sara... I'm not a little kid. I can handle this. If you keep trying to press this issue, you know you won't win." Brooke told me as she began her stitching the flesh together. "I refuse to go to the hospital."

Brooke was just as stubborn as I was, but I was also sensible. I knew that if I fought with Brooke it would only go in circles for hours on end. It had happened more than once in the past. So much to my disagreement with myself, I decided to not press for information yet. I would get it eventually, but it just wouldn't be now.

We sat in silence for several minutes and she was only on her third stitch. It was putting her through more pain to stitch it back together than it was just to leave it open. At least she could put up with doing it by herself now. I could recall the times when she couldn't bear the thought of the needle penetrating her skin, so she'd make me do it for her.

The habit didn't die hard at all.

"Sara, could you finish it up for me?" Brooke said in a calmer, quieter voice as she offered me the needle.

Without another word, I continued the stitch work at the quicker pace than Brooke had. After I was done with her knuckle, I began on the gash on her forehead, and being careful as I worked around the temple. All the while, I was running over the possibilities that could've put her in this state.

_She could be living with or have an abusive boyfriend... _My mind offered.

_Never happen. She'd kick his ass and then kick him out the second she found out he was abusive. _I kicked the thought down immediately.

_What if she's into being a hooker and has abusive customers? _Another thought flew out.

_For one, she'd never get into that kind of business. Selling herself? Not that type... And once again, the abuse... That'd never work with her either. _I inwardly scoffed at the idea of Brooke, _my_ Brooke, being a prostitute.

_Well, one of the only other options is that... _My thought wasn't allowed to finish as an actual voice interrupted.

"Thanks, Sar..." Brooke said, back to normal now. "And thanks for not be your normal stubborn self and pushing for info."

I smirked over at her. "Anytime. Besides, I don't feel like sitting here for hours just to argue with you." I said as I replaced the needle and thread back in the glove compartment. "But don't forget, I'm a CSI, so I will eventually find out. Just a fair warning."

"Maybe, sis... Just maybe." Brooke said on a quick note.

"Will you at least tell me why you were so angry earlier?" I couldn't resist.

"No, Miss Nosy." Said Brooke playfully, with a hint of seriousness. "But what I want _you_ to tell me is where is the best breakfast bar around here. I'm hungry."

I looked upon her with disbelief at the fact that despite her beaten down state, she still wanted to go out to eat. Of course, this was the same girl that went out to McDonalds and the mall after she stole someone's rental car and crashed it into a brick wall at age eight. How could I expect anything less from this girl?

"Only if I get to drive." I compromised, secretly not wanting her to be in control of the car while I was in it.

"Of course, Sizzle B..." She said softly as she got out and we switched seats.

The ride to the closest cafe from where we were was short. A five-minute short ride was more like it. Parallel parking, we got out and entered the cafe, Brooke caught more than one set of eyes upon entering. It could've been her appearance or it could've been her injuries that she insisted were "fine". Or it could've been the black car that was rolling by too slowly and the guys inside it sticking their hands out the window with guns in them.

Brooke and I looked behind us at the same time, just as the shots went off and thanks to Brooke's quick reactions, I didn't end up eating lead. The guy behind the counter did. Brooke lunged at me and pulled me down to the floor as windows and glass was shattering everywhere as the car drove off in a hurry. I flinched every time a bullet whizzed through the air in the cafe and I scrunched down lower, covering my ears to block the sounds as people got hit all around me.

Brooke soon left my side, and I looked up at her just as she exited the cafe, pulling a pistol out from behind her in the waistline of her jeans. Next thing I know, even more bullets are been shot as Brooke shoots back at the ambush car.

"Keep running jackasses! Before I put a bullet up your white asses!" She screamed after the squealing tires.

Brooke re-entered the cafe as everyone that was unharmed began to move around again. I saw her crouch down in front of me and rested her hand on my knee comfortingly. Staring up, I found a calm looking into my younger sister's eyes and slowly rose to my feet. Glancing around the cafe, I saw everyone helping everyone else up. Thankfully it didn't look like there were any serious injuries, with one exception.

Brooke and I walked toward the breakfast bar and leaned over to check on the once standing man I only knew as Luigi. A single gunshot was visible in the center of his stomach and he was gasping for breath.

Going around the other side of the bar, I tried my hardest to apply pressure to the wound while someone called an ambulance. Glancing back up at Brooke, she raised an eyebrow and shrugged as she pulled out her cellphone and dialed 911.

I was surprised when Luigi grabbed me by my shoulder and I looked back at him. "Sara... Right?"

"Yeah, it's me Luigi." I answered.

It wasn't like I knew him well, but I used to come to this cafe enough with the team after work for him to recognize me on sight.

Before Luigi could even formulate a sentence he passed out, but was still breathing. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I looked back up to Brooke who was now leaning over the counter and looking down at us, resting her head in her hand with a depressed look.

"I guess he won't be serving us our food." Brooke said sarcastically.

We had to wait around for several minutes for the ambulance. Time was passed for everyone by cleaning up around the cafe. I truly wanted the ambulance to show up before the CSIs did, because this is Dayshift's clock. And since one of their people was out, there was a possibility that Ecklie would be on this case. Ecklie was the last person I wanted near me, let alone talking to me about what just happened.

"C'mon Sara... We've gotta bail, now. It's gonna be Hell if those punks come back around for round two. We gotta roll before they do." Brooke said as she took a hold of my bicep and pulled me up.

Looking guiltily back down at Luigi, I looked over at Brooke with a nod of my head and hesitantly started to walk away from the scene. Brooke was right. It was dangerous to stay around.

Exiting the cafe, we ran behind the building to the parking lot to get to Brooke's car and jumped in, Brooke in the driver's seat now. Without a moment's hesitation, Brooke's tires squealed on the tar as we tore out of there and in the direction the drive-by car had come from.

No one ever said Brooke was stupid. On the contrary, sometimes I believed her intelligence rivaled mine. That's why Brooke cut me off when she knew that I was going to question her about the drive-by.

"So, who was that guy and girl that was with you before I came in and broke up your lil' party there?" Brooke sprung the question out of nowhere.

Thinking back to what she meant, I knew that she was talking about Grissom and Lady Heather. A subconscious shake of my head and a heavy sigh later, I replied. "That was just my boss and his new _girlfriend_." I struggled with the words to come out in that order.

"You mean that Grissom character you were telling me about? The guy that turned you vegetarian with his rotting pigs and bugs?" Brooke looked away from the road to briefly look at me.

"Yeah, that's the one." I tried to hide the emotion as best I could.

"Hmph, from the way you were talking about him, I would've figured you guys would be going out." Brooke scoffed. "So what's up with his twiggy girlfriend? Don't like her?"

"What do you think?" I crossed my arms across my chest roughly.

"Ah! Young Sara's a little jealous, now aren't we?" Brooke taunted.

"What does it matter? There's nothing I can do about it, so there's no sense in dwelling on it." I said through gritted teeth. "I can't control who he goes out with."

There was a silence as I sat there fuming for a second. Just the though of Lady Heather made my blood boil, but the fact that she was going out with Grissom, I found murder possible now.

"You really like this guy, don't you? It's not just this lil' crush, huh? You want it to be serious, don't you?" Brooke's voice turned from teasing to sympathetic.

"I've known him for over ten years and I even told him how I felt, more or less, about three years ago. I asked him out to dinner but he turned me down flat." I closed my eyes and turned my head away for a moment. "I get caught up in an explosion at the lab and he turns me down for dinner, but that woman nearly whips another man to death and she gets to date him. How does that work out?" I threw my hands up in the air with frustration.

Another moment passed before Brooke's voice popped up outta nowhere it seemed. And surprisingly enough, as if I hadn't had enough surprises today, her voice was raised in excitement.

"I just had the most perfect idea, and it can do nothing but help you with your lil' dilemma." Brooke and I stared across at each other at the exact same time. Anything that she had planned against another woman, or any person for that matter, couldn't have been good for the person she was after.

But somehow, I just couldn't find the emotions to care much about what happens to Lady Heather.

_TBC..._

A/N2: Okay, sorry this took so long for me to put up once again. Blame it on the crazy people that wanted to go jump in bushes for fun half of the night, my stupidness for joining them, and my sorry excuse of a disc eating, data deleting computer. Okay, so those crazy people are my friends, but oh well... Gotta love them because I wouldn't be far without them. So... Do I have to really lay this out for you about what to do now? I'm tryna pick up the pace a little. And Sara's gonna get a little evil, but in a good way since we should all be GSR lovers reading this anyways... A lotta different genres are gonna be floating in and out of this story, so prepare yourselves! And I'm aiming to please everyone here, so tell me what you truly think about this or else just live with your own misery! It's like they say at wedding, "Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Peace out, one love,

MC New York


	6. Memories

A/N: Phew... Next chapter done... It's slightly longer than the rest, but only by a couple pages. Not too bad. And I updated quicker, so here you go... And I've just gotta say quickly, thank you all for all of the reviews I continue to get. If I haven't said that already, I'm saying it now with a HUGE emphasis. I never expected these reviews to come in with every chapter, so this is a pleasant surprise. And each varied review, I enjoy seeing people's different reactions to them. But anyways, on the show... er... story..

Disclaimer: Turns face away with arms crossed stubbornly. Look at the other chapters. Evil lawyers finally chase me down. All right all right! I don't own them! Yeesh!

Chapter 6: Memories

After the car ride and Brooke's questionable, yet ingenious plan, I found myself homeward bound. The plot ran over and over in my mind, and though it didn't suit me as the person I am now, I found that I just didn't care. I had left Foster Child Sara Sidle with the foster houses, but it was about time she came back out.

Giving Brooke the directions to my apartment complex, I sat back and enjoyed the ride now that she was back to her normal blood pressure. But I couldn't turn away the obvious gut feeling that the drive-by was directly related to Brooke's previously anxious behavior. I forced the thought of my sister being caught up in that mess for the time being. It was all circumstantial evidence as far as I was concerned.

"This your place?" Brooke's voice shook my short thought train off its tracks.

Directing my vision from out my window to out Brooke's and noticed the all too familiar Tudor House Apartments. I could only manage a silent nod as I began to get out, preparing myself for another lonely night.

Just as I was walking across the street, throwing a quick "See you later" over my shoulder to my sister, I heard a car door slam shut and hurried footsteps catching up to me. Looking at my side, I saw Brooke walking in step with me up to my apartment.

Going up the never-ending flights of stairs, we arrived on the fifth floor. The elevator would've been easier, minus the fact that it has been broken beyond repair for several years now. Some of the heavier tenants had all boarded the elevator at once on a hot summer's day, and several of the supposedly durable cables snapped like twigs. Had the situation not been as serious as it actually was, I might've laughed at the idea of six people being stuck on an elevator for about five hours.

Laughing now inwardly, I unlocked the door to my apartment and pushed it open, walking in some before flicking on the light near the door. My small apartment lit up as if it were presenting something grand, but it was only what it was. A long plush couch with an armchair on either side of the couch in front of a T.V., and a glass coffee table that stood in between the furniture and T.V. directly in the middle of the small living room. Behind the couch, with the limited space that there was, my computer set was stationed up against the wall beside the entrance to my hallway. Beside the computer in the corner of the room was a bookcase or two filled completely with books, ranging from philosophy, forensics, entomology, and regular reading books. The majority of the books were on forensic science, and only a small portion were entomology, gifts from Grissom ever since I'd met him in Harvard.

I crossed from the carpeted area which was the living room to the linoleum tile floor of the kitchen, which was divided from the living room by a breakfast island. I tossed my keys next to my cordless phone, where they'd found a home over the years.

Just then, I heard the familiar creak of the armchair that I knew was nearest to the door as Brooke hopped over the back of the chair and took a seat.

"You waste no time in making yourself comfortable." I noted with a quick smile as I walked over to my refrigerator and removed two water bottles.

"If comfort won't come to me, I'll go to it." Brooke shrugged as I tossed her the water bottle and went to lay down on the long sofa.

I let out a soft chuckle as I plopped down and opened the bottle up to take a long sip of it. Out of the corner of my eye, to none of my surprise, Brooke chugged the whole bottle within the minute. As I placed mine down on the coaster on the table, I couldn't help but laugh at Brooke as she let out the loudest burp ever.

"Oh _that_ was classy, Brooke!" I exclaimed as Brooke capped the bottle and laid it in her lap with a small grin on her face.

"Yup, that's just me. The secret's out! I'm Ms. Classy with a capital Br, take out the Cl." Brooke seeped deeper into the chair.

We allowed several minutes of relaxed silence to pass before Brooke spoke up again. "Hey Sizz? I was thinking yesterday, what happened to all those old video tapes and pictures of us growing up? I know we didn't leave much back at the old house, and I don't think I have them, so that only leaves you." Brooke inquired me with puzzled eyes.

It took a second for the understanding to click with me and the comprehension made me jump off the couch immediately, taking a stroll down the hall toward my barely used closet just before my bedroom door.

"I'll take that as a yes..." Brooke said with a small grunt as she got off the chair and followed me down the hallway.

Opening the door, which creaked worse than anything else in this apartment, a stale smell instantly assailed my sense of smell that brought about a coughing fit from myself momentarily. As Brooke stood behind me, far away enough to not get the full effect of the musty odor, I trudged through to reach up to the top shelf where a brown box sat in its prolonged lonely state. Lowering the box carefully so I wouldn't lose my grip to have it fall on me, I had Brooke shut the door as I carried the heavy box back to the living room.

Walking around the couch while Brooke took the easier route of jumping over the back, I set the box down on the table and opened it up. Brooke inhaled deeply as the musty smell wouldn't leave the box and exhaled happily with a smile.

"I _love_ that smell." She claimed as she helped me open the taped box.

After a few more coughs, I managed to get out in a strained voice with a slightly accusing stare, "Weirdo."

Once it was opened, we simply could only stare at the contents that could be considered ancient relics by now. Dust had collected upon the top of the photo albums and other objects. Taking out the first one, I used my sleeve to remove the dust to inspect the almost preserved cover.

With a smooth brown leather cover, the rectangular photo album had gold edges on all four corners. In the center of the cover, there was a picture of myself and Brooke as young children, no more than ten and five. We were sitting on a wooden arch bridge that went over the small river that used to run through the park this picture was taken in. I recalled it was the park that Brooke and I played in most often as it was only a few blocks away from where we lived in Brooklyn, New York. In the picture, we had our feet dangling over the edge, gently skimming the cool water and looking down at our reflections with an innocent interest. The picture was bordered in small golden flowers with the phrase, "The times we remember best are times we spend together." arching over the top and bottom of the picture in perfect cursive, and also in gold.

A secret smile snuck across Brooke's, as well as mine, mouth as we both recalled our foster father's, Scotty, hobby. He enjoyed making photo albums much like this one, as well as taking pictures to fill them with. My hand glided across the leather cover with the same awe I had when Scotty had presented it to me all those years ago. I remembered I had ogled at it with amazement of his handicraft and Brooke had done the same. And as he kept making them, the more astonished we became as his work only got better and better.

The Crooks had been the best foster parents I experienced in my ten years of foster care. They were also my first. So every foster home after them, I always expected the next to be just like them, or even better. But I was always disappointed when it only got horribly worse. The Crooks were also the longest lasting home I had. In that home, I'd stayed from age eight to age fifteen or early sixteen. The remaining two or three years, I made a record of switching between anywhere from ten to twenty different homes because of my "lack of obedience". In truth, all I wanted was those four people I considered my family; Scotty, Jasmine my foster mother, Jason my foster brother, and Brooke.

But life has proven periodically that it likes to throw curve balls at you every so often. Sometimes I just begin to wonder if I'm getting curve balls every other pitch.

Opening to the first page, I saw the inscription typed by a typewriter in the middle of a completely blank page.

"_To my loving daughters and crazy son, may these peaceful memories be with you no matter what challenges you face in the future."_

"I remember, they were the only foster parents that would ever consider me their daughter." I heard Brooke's soft voice from beside me. "Everyone else just treated me like I was some freak, but not the Crooks. They actually treated me like I was blood family."

"Yeah, same here..." I comment just as quietly, not wanting to ruining the silence too badly.

Flipping the page, we saw the small first page of pictures, three on top, and three on the bottom going in two rows. Scotty had always gone for the old time look, so an aged look was apparent in the photos he took. A brownish color that looked as if each picture had been nipped around the edges with fire.

The first picture was one of the first pictures of me when I'd first arrived at the foster house. When I was just getting used to everyone in the house and how they acted. Well, it was more like I was adjusting to Brooke and her overly expressive personality. She was the wildest out of the bunch, to no one's surprise. In the picture, I was standing in the doorway between the foyer of the house and the living room, leaning up against the frame with my small, flimsy arms crossed against my chest with the most forced smirk I'd ever given. As petty a matter as it was, I was very aggravated at Brooke, who was hanging off the fan on the ceiling in the background. Not only had she ransacked my room for candy that I didn't even have and trashed it in the process, but she'd also taken the last Sea-Salt Ice Cream! It was my favorite flavor! Brooke was just about to cross the line and my last nerve.

Brooke laughed a nonchalant laugh as she analyzed the first picture as well. "I remember that was five minutes just before we got in our first official 'fight'. I was wondering when you were gonna break!"

"You did all of that on purpose? You brat..." I scoffed at her.

"Hey, don't feel bad! I did it to Jason too. He was easier than you though. Of course, he was only a little toddler. All I had to do was take his favorite toy away and he'd get mad." Brooke snickered. "I did that to find out where my limits were to get you really mad. For you, it took bustin' up your room, accusing you of hiding candy, getting the last bit of your favorite ice cream, and then walking by and yanking out a hair or smacking you on the back of the head."

I could only manage an incredulous look because no words that I could think of would get the same message across.

"What about that next one?" Brooke asked, attention immediately back to the book.

I stared at the three little children in the picture and saw the sadly bored expressions written plain across their faces. It was myself, Brooke, and Jason. We were sitting on the stairs of the porch in the front of the house in a row. We were putting our chins in our right hands as our elbow propped our arms up on our right knee. Even little Jason, who was little over three years old was mimicking Brooke and myself.

This picture had been taken several pictures after the first one, and Brooke's relationship with me had gotten better and better by the day. That day, I was troubled with the thoughts of my Mother in the mental institution. So I had gone to the porch steps to sort out my problems. Brooke had seen my depressed state and came to sit down with me, mimicking my stance. Jason soon followed and impersonated the same posture. Scotty thought it would be a "cute Hallmark picture" so ran to get the camera and took the picture. As Scotty was taking the picture, Jasmine, our foster mother, had snuck up behind us and looked as if she was going to attack us like a bear. After Scotty had took the picture, I recall Jasmine swooping down and encasing us all into her petite arms and tickling us all.

A quick glance at Brooke and her staring back at me, we didn't need to talk about the memory. It didn't need any words.

And the pictures just continued on and on. Countless happy memories spawned from the pictures which brought on more smiles from myself. Subconsciously, I was thanking Brooke over and over for coming back and finding me. Before yesterday, it was so uncharacteristic for me to even give a half smile without being sarcastic or having to force it. But it was just something about the young woman that couldn't stop me from smiling. I was beginning to like having the ability to smile more. I felt like the old Sara Sidle again.

At last getting to the end of the large photo album, I closed it and placed it back in the box. Brooke was now snooping through the box, moving thing around until she finally found what she had been looking for. She pulled out a single VHS tape and had a mischievous smile on her lips. It was only when I read the inscription of what the tape contained.

_The Documentaries of Brooke and Sara..._ I read to myself

"I knew you had it. C'mon! We gotta watch it! We gotta, gotta, gotta!" Brooke said imitating a sugar high child.

Exhaling noisily, I took the tape from the bouncing woman and walked to the T.V. to insert it for Brooke's viewing pleasure. Grabbing the remote from right beside the VCR, I maneuvered my way back to the couch and sat down as Brooke plopped down next to me, overly eager. One quick glance at Brooke and I pushed play on the VCR after turning the T.V. on.

"_Brooke! Brooke! Get down from that fan before you break it and it falls! Then you'll be the one that'll fix it!" Jasmine yelled from the living room, the camera coming from her point of view. Scotty took the pictures, Jasmine took the videos._

"_That's just **so** heartwarming to know that you're only concerned about your fan! What about me? What if I fall and hurt my poor ankle?" Brooke asked sarcastically as I slowly came walking into the living room after my picture was taken._

"_Well, it would be your fault for doing it. Now get down before I have to come over there." Jasmine said as she advanced to where I sat._

_Letting go, Brooke landed on her feet with barely any noise made. The camera was now being directed from the chair that was right beside the small couch I was sitting on. It slowly zoomed into my face as I exhaled softly and laid back to get comfortable._

"_C'mon Baby Girl! Smile for the camera! Stop acting like you don't know the camera loves you!" Jasmine said in a sweet voice as my face turned toward the camera, trying to put on a show for it to pass for 'I'm okay'._

_A meek half smile was given and I turned back to my original task of relaxing. Jasmine's soft chuckle was heard as the camera sought out Scotty as he appeared in the doorway I'd just come through. He had his head in his hand and was leaning up against the frame, just a few inches shorter than the doorway. He was shaking his head and giving his ear-to-ear grin at the same time. When he looked up, he looked at the camera, or at least to Jasmine who was behind the camera. He pointed back in the direction that I was and walked away snickering. The camera's view flew back over but then snagged on the sight of Brooke, even shorter than she was today but at the time, was just as big as I was. Despite being only about six or close to seven. A sly smile slid across her full lips as she moved stealthily behind me and swiftly grabbed a strand of hair and plucked it from my sensitive scalp, while smacking me in the back of the head._

_I shot forward and covered my head with my hands protectively, rubbing the injured spot gingerly. A sour appearance showed up on my face a moment later as I death glared Brooke as she walked toward the kitchen behind the camera and Jasmine. I rolled my eyes just as the camera focused back on Brooke who was now in the kitchen and was visibly witnessed getting a cup of water filled a small bit. It was plain to see that the water wasn't for drinking as Brooke made her way back to the living room. Yet the camera remained stationary as Brooke walked up behind me and poured the water over my head._

_A gasp escaped me as I jumped up from my seat, shook from my relaxed state. Turning around, I looked down as the water dripped onto my clothes, a white V-neck shirt and khaki pants, and got them wet as well. Next I looked up at Brooke who stood on the other side of the couch laughing manically, clutching her stomach and pointing at me tauntingly._

"Oh yeah, there was also the water thing... Haha... Look at your face! It's getting so scrunched up with anger..." Brooke spoke up. "Priceless."

"Shh!" I commanded sharply as I returned to the tape.

_Behind the camera, you could hear Jasmine's voice say softly to herself, "Uh oh Brooke. You're gonna get it now. The initiations are done now..." _

_And a quick look at my face could clarify what that meant, the anger visibly rising to my face quickly. I was fed up and only one thing was on my mind right now... Revenge._

_Jumping up on the couch, I bounced before I lunged at Brooke and knocked us both down to the floor yelling in anger at the younger child. Jasmine stood up to get a better visual on our "fight". There weren't even punches being thrown, it was just the two of us trying to pin the other person down. On first impact with Brooke, we both backrolled so we were now in the foyer of the house. When the backrolling stopped, I had Brooke pinned down by her biceps with a furious look on my face. Brooke's face remained slightly shocked, but mostly smug. Then the struggle just began from there._

_Managing to free her legs from my knees trying to pin them down, she positioned her feet against my stomach and kicked me off of her as Brooke backrolled into a standing position. I had charged at her and as I neared her, she ducked down and I slid across her bent back and headbutted the couch's back. Brooke threw herself on top of me with her small "battle cry" and pinned me down as I was recovering from my slight headache. _

_Once I was well again, I rolled over so that I pinned her down now, and we continued to roll over on each other until we were out in the foyer once more. Then Chaos, our crazy but loveable pitbull, came racing down the stairs barking at Brooke and me, plowing right between us in an attempt to break up the fight. Both Brooke and I scurried from our positions back to each other, wrestling with each other to try and pin the other again. All the while, Jasmine moved in closer and got a close up as Brooke hoisted me up and over her shoulder and dragged me toward the door as I scurried out of her grip with easy. She was the strong one while I was the flexible one that could get out of tight spots with ease._

_Now behind her, I swiftly reached around her and opened the door as I tackled her again, grabbing her ponytail with one hand and sitting on her back, restraining her hands with the other. Chaos ran up beside us and barked playfully at us before leaping in front of Brooke and licking her face feverously making her sputter and cough from the dog saliva getting in her mouth._

_Jasmine moved around to where Chaos was and filmed Brooke, Chaos, and me with Scotty walking down the hall toward the fiasco with Jason in his arms balanced on his hip. Jason wriggled wildly in his arms at the sight of Brooke, Chaos, and me. Scotty had no other choice but to let him down. The excited three-year-old ran as fast as his chubby legs would permit him to down the hall and toward us all on the porch. The albino toddler approached Brooke and tripped, falling in front of me and on Brooke's back. I assisted the toddler as he tried to sit on Brooke's back as well. He soon scooted up so that he could reach around to Brooke's face and put his index and middle finger into Brooke's mouth to pull her lips back so that it appeared as if she was smiling._

_At this point, the anger had left my body completely and I was smiling for the first time since I was about five or six. From the look on my face, I jumped at the feel of the smile as my hand that was holding down Brooke's hands raised slowly to my lips to feel them as if they were something I'd never known about before. Slowly, another smile appeared underneath my fingertips and I yelped as Chaos suddenly turned on me. He leapt at me, knocking me off and then pinned me down before sitting on my chest to shower me with his kisses over and over. _

"_Get Sara!" Brooke announced enthusiastically. _

_Brooke scurried to help the overgrown dog keep me pinned as I tried to get him off me before I drowned in his slobber. Brooke tossed herself on top and started the pile as Jason soon followed suit. Scotty, forever being the overgrown child at heart, joined the pile that was depressing me into the porch's floorboards. But I soon busted into laughter as Jason reached for my ticklish spot, which was technically everywhere since I was a very ticklish person. Soon enough, Jasmine had even set the camera down on the railing and joined in on the "Tickle Sara" festival._

"_Hey! No tickling me! Stop!" Brooke suddenly whined in the midst of my hysterical laughter and my "family's" chuckles of amusement._

_Now there was a mixture of Jasmine, Scotty, Jason, and Chaos tickling both Brooke and me. As I squirmed out of the pile, I yanked Brooke out with me to give her a helping hand. _

"_Whaddya say we get 'em, Sizz?" The younger girl asked with a confident smirk._

_Giving a smirk back, I nodded as we both attacked the other four now, so everyone was tickling everyone._

"I'm telling you... You were psycho back then! The way you attacked me off that couch. You were a bigger version of a flying squirrel!" Brooke said as we watched the constant tickling attack go on between the family on the screen.

"Well, what'd you want me to do? Just sit there and dump water on me?" I asked with a shrug.

A quick nod came from her. "Yeah, basically."

Fast forwarding slightly just to get to the next part, which would be a few days from then if my memory was correct. We continued to sit back, watch, and revel in this memories that felt like ancient history.

_The camera's view started off from the far corner of the living room so that it had a full view of what went on within the entire room._

_Music could be heard throughout the house as Brooke turned up the music system even higher with her tape in the cassette player. This was definitely another difference between Brooke and myself. Growing up in a Bed & Breakfast with hippie parents dragged me into listening to their music. Brooke, on the other hand, was a native to Brooklyn's Negro ghettos where their songs expressed their lifestyles. And when you compared the two types of music to each other, they were completely different in every aspect imaginable. One was about love, peace, and unity while the other was about drug dealers on the block, crooked police, and "keeping it real with the homies"._

_**1, 2, 3, into the four  
Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the door  
Ready to make and entrance so back on up  
'Cause you know I'm 'bout to rip shit up  
Gimme the microphone first so I can bust like a bubble  
Compton and Long Beach together  
Now you know you in trouble...**_

"_Brooke, do you have to put your music up so loud?" I screamed over the system as I walked closer to her from my previous position on the couch in the living room._

"_Yup. Wouldn't be as good as if it wasn't." Brooke said as she moved away from it._

"_You know the neighbors won't like this, and they'll complain to Scotty and Jasmine when they get home." I told her with my hands on my hips._

"_Oh well... Ain't like it killing them!" Brooke shrugged with no concerns of what Mr. and Mrs. Townsherd would say to our parents about Brooke's music._

_As Brooke walked into the kitchen to either grab something to drink or eat, I began to listen to the awkward beat and began to move just as awkwardly to the beat, trying to dance in time with it. But even I could tell it wasn't working. But I apparently didn't sense that Brooke had appeared back from the kitchen. Her mouth was wide open with horror and movement was non-existent once her eyes fell upon my pathetic figure that was clumsily moving around the room, in a sad attempt to dance to this music._

"_Oh... my... God..." There was a cringe in her face as she watched a moment longer_

_I jumped at the sound of the younger girl's voice and looked back at her before turning my face away to try and hide my slight embarrassment._

"_You dance like a white girl!" Brooke said in awe as she walked in and set the water down next to the stereo._

"_Incase you haven't noticed yet, I **am** a white girl." I tried to not lose all of my dignity and pride._

"_Well, that just became more clear..." Brooke said sarcastically. "Wow... Now I know why you don't dance much... It's 'cause you can't!"_

_Trying to not feel the embarrassment again, I stood up straighter with a defiant look on my face now. "Okay, well show me what you consider 'dancing'." I challenged._

"_A'ight... You want me to break you off with a lil' something?" Brooke asked smugly, not even truly seeking an answer._

_Before I couldn't even blink, Brooke began her interpretation of "dancing". It was what everyone now knew as "breakdancing" and "Cript Walking". My face showed pure amazement as Brooke Cript Walked across the carpet before she wound up and spun around to mimic Michael Jackson and then jumped up and landed straight on the tips of her toes. While on her toes she bent down like she was crouching and began swinging her right leg around until her little body was up in the air, spinning around with her legs open in a V shape. Brooke popped off the ground several times to roll in the air before getting on the ground and continuing her breakdancing. Finally, just when I thought my eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, she didn't cease to amaze me. Brooke made a quick transition from the swinging of the legs to a completely still one-hand handstand with her other hand grabbing her sneakers as she made her feet touch her head. Slowly, she pumped her legs in the air and now she was jumping up and down on her hand that was holding her up. After that, she jumped once more and pushed backwards so she landed back on her feet again._

"_THAT'S... how you dance." Brooke said complacently._

_I was stricken speechless as I watched Brooke take a long sip of her water. Suddenly, I saw something flick through her eyes as she looked toward the camera. It was surprise._

"_What the...?" Brooke asked to the atmosphere as she advanced toward the camera, confusion and surprise in her eyes._

_Reaching through what turned out to be a plant, Brooke took out the camera and inspected it. _

"_Shit! It's recording!" Was all Brooke said as she shut it off._

"Haha... You were so busted for swearing that day." I said as I looked over at Brooke. "They didn't even care about the fact that you had practically made us deaf with your music. Just that you swore."

"Eh... But then they complimented on my mad dance skills." Brooke said with a smile.

"You were talented. You certainly taught me that there was a workout in dancing. Remember? Later that night I asked you to teach me..." I shook my head to myself.

"You woke up the next morning with more injuries than a crash test dummy! You nearly fell down the stairs because you were so stiff! You were walking like you were an illegal penguin smuggling drugs!" Brooke just had to remind me...

I could almost feel the same pain I had went through that morning when I woke up. Instant pain...

Brooke soon sat upright with alert and looked over at me with a smirk. "I do believe something is vibrating in my pants."

I rolled my eyes as she stood up and took her cellphone out from her pocket and read the ID caller. With a small frown, she answered it. "Hey... What's up?" She waited several seconds. "Are they all right?" Worry grew on her face. "Are _you_ all right?" An angry sigh escaped her as she got a reply from her caller. "Hey, calm down... Stop worrying about him... I told you he wasn't worth your sweat and tears, but do you listen? Nope..." Another sigh. "I know... I'm sorry. It's just your as stubborn as I am. Listen, do you want me to go over there now? Secure the place?" A quick nod was given. "All right... You know the drill... Shut the windows, limited the number of lights on, and lock all of the doors. And I'll be there in ten." A small but sad smirk emerged. "Yeah, I know its usually twenty, but you know since it's _me_ it's half the time when I'm on wheels." The serious face was back again. "I promise I'll be careful. All right. Sit tight. Be there in ten. Later." And then the hang up.

With the video on pause, I looked up at her with worry as well. Was there truly an abusive person in Brooke's life, at least indirectly?

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah... Nothing to worry about. My friend's got some man problems right now. He's good to her when he wants to be, but can be the nastiest person when you get a substance into his system." Brooke said with a heavy sigh and a shrug. "I'm sorry, Sara, but this is important. I have to go... Maybe we could pick this up some other time?"

Trying to shake the worry from my mind, I gave a fake smile for her. "Sure... Later... Just get done what you need to get done. And be careful."

"Geez, don't get all preachy and motherly on me now!" A bright smile crossed her face as she advanced toward me, leaning down, grabbing the back of my head gently before kissing the top of my head. "Don't worry about me. I've always been able to hold my own."

Brooke backed up and headed toward the door, opening it before she exited. She must've looked back at me... I couldn't tell, I had my head looking downward, realizing that I was about to face another lonely night again after all. But she spoke up from leaning against the door's frame.

"Are _you_ gonna be okay?" She asked in a concerned fashion.

"Yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I be?" I looked up and noticed she was still here.

"Dunno... You just kinda had that disappointed and sad look on your face there for a moment." Brooke shrugged.

"I'm fine. I'll call you tomorrow Brooke." I assured her, even if I wasn't assuring myself.

"Okay... Well, I'm outta here. Peace Sizzle B.!" She called as she shut the door.

Half smirking, I got up about a minute later and walked to the sliding glass door that gave me access to my very small deck. Going outside and looking over, I witnessed as Brooke jogged across the street and jumped into the car. Several seconds later, she was speeding back down the road, leaving behind skid marks in the road.

Returning to my couch after shutting the door, I took a moment of quiet for myself as I continued to watch the video. It wasn't nearly as interesting to watch them, I found, now that I was alone. Sitting alone and half living the old memories in silence... I found myself wishing I was back in that house now, back at that time period where everything was at least slightly simpler...

But memories are memories... And that's all they are.

_TBC..._

A/N2: All right then. There's the chapter! Let me know what you think! Oh yeah, and if anyone can guess what that song was that Brooke & Sara were listening to, I will grant you any wish as long as it is legal and within my realm of possibility to do. P But now I feel the need to answer the reviews from the previous chapter...

El Gringo Loco: That's always within the realm of possibility to happen... Are you sure I wasn't already considering that? Lol... With me writing this story, almost anything is possible. ;-)

forensicsgirl97: Phew! You have given me, by far, the longest review yet! But what did I expect from you? And no worries about Lady Heather... You just sit back, continue reading, and let ME handle that lil'... Well, I won't put any words what I feel about her here... That just wouldn't be appropriate. And you think Brooke is "crazy"? Well, you're only partly right! And you'll see how this affects Sara's "evilness" in later chapters. And now, now! Are we getting a lil' antsy to wish death and illness upon a certain domanatrix that neither of us can stand? And bush-jumping is fun! Very! Lol, talk to you later...

GrissomGroupie77: I'm very glad your love has grown for this story. It'll be good to have you as a regular reviewer. A self-esteem boost is called for every once in a while. And I mean that with everyone! Haven't gotten one flame yet! And here's more, just to feed your addiction. C'mon! Eat it up, eat it up! Lol, and BTW, I love your name! GrissomGroupie77... Haha, ok randomness is over with.

dark-girl-faith-sidle: Once again, I love your name. It's just plain awesome. But anyways, thank you for the nice reviews. And to answer your question, why are those guys after Brooke? Well, okay, I lied. I can't say right now. But I promise everything will become perfectly clear before the end of the story. And yeah, I talk from experience with the whole stitching your own hand back together... It does kill, let's just say that much at the least. It's no fun to stitch your hand back together, people! Audience: Yes Captain Obvious!

dakota11: Thank you for the review. At least I know I'm doing something right by hooking some people to this story! Keep your reviews up, please, and I'll keep updating.

Okay peoples... This is the end now. I'll keep updating later. Right now, I'm out.

Peace out, one love,

MC New York


	7. Anger Management

A/N: So... The 7th installment to this story. Yay! And it just keeps going. Once more, I don't think I could find the motivation to keep on writing if I didn't have all of these awesome reviews coming in. They really make my day, all of them. So yes, I am MC New York and I do have an addiction to Reviews from my lovely reviewers. Thank you very much.

Disclaimer: Silence. No. Walks away

* * *

Chapter 7: Anger Management

It was closing in on 6:00 p.m., and I'd yet to even allow my head to hit the pillow this entire time.

My eyes were beyond being heavy, yet I refused to pull myself away from the computer. After watching several hours worth of the home videos, something tugged at my mind to do a little bit of research. That drew my attention to the computer and the notorious In the search bar, I typed in Scott and Jasmine Crooks, 1987 and clicked "search". For the past seven hours, I studied the information that I already knew about. Nothing came up that was remotely useful to expanding my knowledge, and yet, I rejected the idea to give up.

I had gone through three pots of coffee by now, and I left my seat once more to make the fourth. Slowly as I watched the coffee drip into the pot, the simple and incessant motion mesmerized me. The temptation of sleep overwhelmed my body as I began to slump over the counter and fall to the floor in slow motion. Resistance gradually exited my body as I slumped up against my white wooden cabinets and closed my eyes. Somewhere down the hall I heard a faint beeping sound but I quickly blocked it out of my mind and fell asleep.

"Sara! Sara! Are you in there!" A distant voice called out to me through the black abyss as I tried to remain asleep.

Not having the strength to care much about the person, I attempted to move away from the noise and throw my hand lazily over my ear. I didn't have time for this. I was sleeping.

But a much louder sound ripped through the black chasm and caused my eyes to shoot straight open. Strangely enough, around me were the white cabinets that were in my kitchen. As I blinked away the sleep from my eyes, I steadily stood up and looked around. My computer was still on, my cellphone was ringing as well as my house phone, and my beeper was going off. And there was still someone at the door knocking.

_How had I managed to sleep through all of that? _I asked myself as I checked the caller ID on both phones and my beeper. _Nick on the cell, Brass on the home, and a page from Warrick saying "SARA!". Great..._

Stretching leisurely, I looked around for the time and I stopped mid-stretch in shock that it was 9:00 p.m..

"SARA! Open up!" The voice screamed in again, which I then identified as Greg.

Walking briskly over to the door, I opened it seeing as I hadn't locked anything since my unexpected slumber, and inhaled shortly at the sight of the young overly worried CSI. I held up my hand to silence him before he could get a word out of his mouth to intelligibly say.

"No questions, I'm fine. The world hasn't ended, I just overslept." I replied to the typical comments that ran through my co-worker's mouths when I didn't show up for work without notice. Or just not show up at all for that matter.

Greg's mouth snapped shut and he looked away slightly embarrassed. I walked toward my bedroom to get ready for the night. As I strode down the hall, I felt Greg still standing in the open doorway.

"C'min, sit down, help yourself to coffee, whatever to occupy yourself while I get ready." I called over my shoulder as I entered my room and closed the door.

Going over to my bureaus, I dug around for a T-shirt and work pants. Luckily, I had one last good pair of black pants that I deemed "work worthy" and a white short sleeved, V-necked shirt. Hurrying to my bedroom's bathroom, I jumped in the shower to wash up quickly. The hot water seemed to help soothe the kink that had formed in my neck and shoulders from sleeping in such an eccentric position.

Upon getting out, drying up, dressing up, and all the other essentials to getting ready for the day, or in my case, night, I exited my bedroom and walked into my living room. Greg seemed to be gawking at the computer screen with his CSI scrutiny we, as CSIs, had. I had forgotten to exit out of all that before hand.

"Hey, who's... 'Scott and Jasmine Crooks'?" Greg asked as he took a quick glance at me and then back at the screen.

Immediately reaching over and clicking the X box in the window, I eliminated the information. And much rather than getting mad at Greg for "invading" my privacy, I didn't only because it would look like I was keeping something a secret. Which I virtually was true, but nobody but myself needed to know that.

"Some old friends of mine." I half-lied as I proceeded to search for my shoes.

"It said they'd died." Greg said sympathetically. "I'm sorry..."

I looked up from over my couch and gave him a half smile as I shrugged to myself. "When you go, you go. Nothing you can do about it."

"Yeah, but still..." Greg said as he walked to one of the armchairs. "It's still a loss."

"Greg, have you seen my other shoe?" I asked, purposely changing the subject as I busied myself with searching for my lost shoe.

As Greg investigated the depths of underneath the chair, I was looking underneath the sofa and the other chair. Suddenly I heard Greg stand up and toss them next to me. Looking up at him, I nodded my thanks as I slid them on while I was on the floor.

"How could you sleep through all of that noise? Y'know, from earlier?" Greg asked as we were on our way out. I still didn't have my car.

"I'm not quite sure Greg..." I responded as I strapped in and sat back as Greg took off down the road.

Thankfully, it was a silent car once Greg got his music going. Much different from Brooke, to say the least. Rock against Rap.

_At least they both had good tastes in artists when it came to the genre, _I could only think to myself as we drove. _I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't stand the music and was stuck with them for all of these long car rides._

Before I even realized it, Greg had pulled into the Lab's parking lot and into the space next to where my broken down car is supposed to be. The important words there are "supposed to be". As in, it wasn't any longer.

Mouth opened wide in disbelief, I walked in the place where my car had once been. Turning in circles, I looked at the ground with half accusation as I stared back up at Greg with amazement as he stared back with confusion.

"What is it?" He asked finally.

"My car." I managed at first. "My car wasn't working yesterday and I got a ride instead. And yes, I'm sure this was where it was parked because I remember that... sad mistake of a tree was right in front of it. It's the only one here that's that horribly disfigured." I said as I came to a realization in my mind. "I got jacked..."

Greg couldn't help himself much longer so he busted out laughing to the point where he had to lean against his car just to remain standing. Rolling my eyes as I heaved a sigh, I power walked into the building, not forgetting to shove Greg as I passed him to get my vengeance on him. Picking up speed as I went for Grissom's office, I tried to remember what exactly was left in my car. I was drawing a blank as I went through a mental list of important items that were vital to my life.

_Purse? With me right now. Money, ID, any identification cards? In my purse... My field kit? I'm holding it right now. _I thought to myself as Grissom's office loomed ahead, door slightly cracked open and lights on. _Grissom... Oh no... The pictures... Those were in there... Along with my personal journal... Dammit!_

That was what was missing... And not only was it important, but it held a lot of information within it as well.

_Oh well... What are a bunch of teenagers gonna do with my personal thoughts? Sell them on Ebay?_ I thought with a small snicker. _But the pictures... I've had those since my Harvard days... The seminar... The week after the seminar when I got to know Grissom, and not just Dr. Grissom... **Those** pictures... Oh man._

I now stood outside of his door as I finished my thoughts. There was silence, but I cringed at the thought of if Lady Heather was in there with him. The day was bad enough to start off with, first with oversleeping, then with my car being jacked along with my personal belongings in it! The last thing I needed was to have my heart broken over seeing that unwelcomed scene. Just before my fist raised to knock on the frame of the door, I sent a silent prayer that Brooke's plan worked.

"Come in." I heard his voice call from the inside.

Opening the door, I sided with relief to see that he was the only in there, with the exception of a desk load of paperwork. I leaned up against the frame in the middle of the threshold watching him as he seemed to have an oncoming headache, with his head in his hands and rubbing lazy circles into his temples to soothe the pain. Grissom had looked up once since I entered, and that was closing in on five minute ago. Finally as I was about to move further in, he gazed up to make eye contact with me. His expression when from slightly annoyed to stunned.

"Sara..." He said after his quick emotional change, but kept his voice professional. "You were late."

"So I've noticed." I hadn't truly meant to get snippy, but the facts that remained in my mind gave my attitude a sharp edge. "I overslept Grissom. I am human, and I do need sleep. But that's not what I came here for. Grissom, my car got stolen right from the Lab's parking lot."

His face seemed as taken aback as mine had been when I realized it as well. Slowly as he absorbed the information, Grissom removed his glasses from his eyes and held them as he propped his elbows up on his desk. A moment of silence ensued as he thought for a second. "Did you have anything important inside?"

"Just some personal stuff." I answered back as I didn't want to say, 'Just some pictures of you and my thoughts written down about you.' That would freak him out for sure.

"That's it? Just your personals? Nothing involving the lab?" _How does it figure his first concern would be the lab? Not that mine isn't either, but still... **Just** my personals? **That's it**? Hmph..._

"No, just my personal things that have nothing to do with the lab or work in anyway." I said as I walked in and sat down in the chair in front, crossing my legs and folding my hands in my lap.

"All right. I'll contact Brass and ask him to put an APB out on your car so we can recover your things." Grissom said just as he reached over for his desk and began dialing.

Just as I was about to stand and leave, knowing I had evidence to be processing on my case, someone appeared in the door. Before my eyes could figure out who it was, I inhaled sharply at the thought of it being Lady Heather "dropping by for a visit". But it was only Catherine. I released an unknown about pent up breath before I walked out of the office without another word. As I strolled down the hall toward the locker room to put my field kit there for now, I felt Catherine's eyes baring into my back but I kept walking until I ended up in the locker room, and dropped off the unnecessary items I was holding. The Evidence Vault was my next stop to retrieve the evidence I would be examining. Signing it out, I took the bed sheets to the layout room to analyze and any evidence I might've missed on it. I wasn't about to wait around for Catherine.

Spreading it out on the table and snapping on my rubber gloves, I covered every inch and every piece of thread there was on the sheet. But I couldn't find anything but the suicidal teen's blood. A sixteen-year-old boy had been found in his girlfriend's house after they're spent a night together while her parents were out of town, and she'd gone out to buy some much needed "provisions" when she came home to see him laying in her bed, dead and bled out. A bloody knife at his side along with a gun as he appeared to have shot himself as well. It would've been open and shut, except for the cuts on his wrists didn't appear to be made by him. Not to a trained eye.

But just who would sit back and allow someone to slit their wrists and then shoot them? There wasn't a struggle in that entire room, no evidence of anyone besides him and his girlfriend. In my opinion, which I didn't even take truly into account just yet, the girlfriend found out something she didn't like about the boy and lured him into bed and just when he was completely disoriented, she slit his wrists and shot him to make it look like a suicide. But why double? Usually it's one or the other, but this was both. The boy's mother, who'd been on the scene, had informed us that he was being treated for depression and that he took his medication regularly: Zoloft. I took the guess that Catherine had already gone to Dr. Robbins's dominion, so all there was to wait for was for her to fill me in and for the Tox results to get back.

_Speak of the devil._ I thought as I heard Catherine's heels clicking down the hallway toward me.

Upon her arrival, I continued to work, determined to find some type of substance other than blood on the sheets. Just as I was getting to the hem of the sheets, Catherine decided to make her presence doubly known about by clearing her throat then walking all the way in.

"Have you gotten a Tox result back for the McBrian kid?" I asked as I continued my undisturbed search.

"Not yet... But we did get the Trace result as to what that dusty substance was on his hands. It was crushed up Trazalon, the anti-depressant." Catherine reported.

"Yeah, it helps treat mental depression that usually occurs with anxiety." I rattled off what I knew for a second to clarify it for myself. "Strange that he was prescribed it though... One of trazodone's side effects is priapism. In approximately 1/3 of the cases reported, surgery was required. So why would they prescribe a kid meds like that?"

"No idea... Maybe he had a medical problem with all the other types of anti-depressants." Catherine offered as she sat down next to me.

Finding nothing along the hem, I grabbed the sheet almost incriminatingly and was about to speak up before a white dusty substance sprinkled out of the open end of the hem. Trazodone was the first thought that came to mind. Taking a moment to confirm silently with Catherine, we glanced over at each other before she bent down and wiped the substance with her gloved finger. Rubbing it between her index finger and thumb, she sighed and sat back once more.

"Okay... So... Premeditated maybe? That's extremely convenient place for that to be, especially in that form." I talked it out. "So... Girlfriend finds out her loving boyfriend either isn't loyal or... I'm not sure what else. Decides to get revenge. Lures him into the bedroom, he's probably already under some type of influence seeing as he is considerably bigger than she is. There's no way that she could've forced a sober him to take a drug if he didn't want to." I shook my head at the thought.

"Unless she promised it would, 'Liven up the experience.'" Catherine added quickly.

"True... So, once he's pretty much... preoccupied, the girlfriend takes the chance to give him the drug. With the drugs acting on him, plus anything else he ingested before hand... He was pretty much sedated within minutes..." I stated.

"Gentle as a kitten." Catherine commented with a smirk.

"Yeah, a kitten that taken advantage of and killed in the end." I huffed.

"Open and shut..." Catherine said as she stood up after taking a sample of the substance and started toward the door. "I'll go check up on any pending results, and drop this off at Hodges." She waved the sample as she exited.

"All right! Let me know..." I let my voice fall as I stared back at the sheets.

And from that point on, I stayed in the layout room... For nearly hours. I only left to go to the Evidence Vault to check in the evidence that I was finished analyzing and check out the next piece of evidence up for examining. It went on and on until I lost track of the time at all. It was until Judy had called into the room that I stopped my robotically routine movements just to acknowledge what was going on around me.

"Miss Sidle? Are you there?" Judy asked through the intercom after her first announcement, which I missed, and a second of silence.

"Y-yes I'm here. What is it Judy?" I asked as I put the magnifier down on the table.

"Well, you have a visitor in the main lobby. I've been trying to tell her that you're probably working hard right now, but she refuses just to leave a message for you. Her name is Brooke Waters." Judy said as I heard Brooke grumbling in the background. "Should I tell her to come back at the end of shift?"

"No, no... I'll go see what she wants. Thanks Judy." I called as I stood from my seat to stretch shortly.

"Sure thing Miss Sidle." Judy said before she switched out.

Walking swiftly out of the layout room, I headed for the main lobby. Going in and seeing Brooke standing up with her arms crossed and staring at the wall intently, I looked over at Judy and said a silent thank you to her. Going up behind her, I tapped her on the shoulder lightly making Brooke twirl around instantly.

"Hey Brooke. What's up? It isn't the end of shift yet." I asked.

"I know but I've got to ask something of you. You see, this psycho psychiatrist changed my appointment around so I've got an appointment now. I know, I know... Who the Hell makes an appointment at 2:00 in the morning? Apparently this guy." Brooke gave a quick eye roll, answering my internal question as I realized the time for the first time. "I was planning on asking you after shift but..." Brooke inhaled deeply and shrugged before letting it go.

"I understand. Why do you need me, though?" I asked next, knowing she had a perfectly working car last I knew of.

"I can't bare being in that place, I just want someone to give me a lil' support." She answered seriously. "And just to ensure he doesn't sue me for kicking his ass for asking the wrong questions."

Knowing that Brooke had an underlying seriousness about the last part, I decided it wouldn't hurt to check out earlier today. The case was as slow as slow could get and nothing incriminating was turning up on any of the evidence, nor did any of my "CSI instincts" tell me there would be upon further investigation. Besides, we already were on our way to pinning the girlfriend. We already confirmed, I learned while examining the evidence in the layout room, that the girlfriend wasn't where she said she was at that time.

"Sure... Let me just check out and get my things." I said as I started for the desk. "You can come along too, if you want. I'll get you a visitor's pass."

After acquiring a visitor's pass and telling Judy I'd be leaving early from shift, Brooke and I walked down the halls toward the locker room. Stopping in hastily to the layout room I had been working in and I picked up the evidence I was working on. Making another stop into the Evidence Vault, I checked it back in before leaving with a short "Goodbye" to Andy who guarded the Vault.

Continuing down the corridors, Brooke was saying something about how Andy was checking me out, and I had to explain to her that he wasn't because our chemistry just didn't mix. She was about to question me before someone bumped into me as they came out from one of the hallways branching off the main corridor. I was about to apologize but I quickly noted who it was; Lady Heather. And she didn't appear to be apologizing either.

Shooting a death glare at the woman as she walked down the hall, I suppressed violent thoughts of myself coming up behind her and dealing more than a handful of harm upon the woman. As I snapped out of it, I was slightly frightened that I was having thoughts of this type. It wasn't possible that my jealous ran that deep, did it?

"Hey jackass! Watch where you stepping!" Brooke yelled at Lady Heather threateningly once she helped me up from the fall.

When Lady Heather didn't even seem to acknowledge Brooke's words and just kept walking, Brooke's face flared up with anger in an instant. Taking action, I grabbed her arm and led her onwards before she exploded, and before I did as well.

"Sara! What are you doing? You're just gonna let that skank push you down like that and then walk away without apologizing?" Brooke asked once I pulled her into the locker room.

"If I let you blow up at _that_ woman in particular, I'm not sure I would've had the heart to stop you." I said cruelly as I went to my locker and opened it.

"Is that... Is that that skank of a girlfriend to that boss of yours?" Brooke inquired as she sat down on the benches.

"Yeah..." I managed out with a heavy breath as I sat down next to her with my stuff in hand.

"Damn..." She pulled the word out in her New York accent. "She ain't got nothing on you. What is that man? Blind?"

I chose to remain quiet and not respond at all to the question. It was best that way.

"Hmph... Well, this plan of mine will definitely go into effect soon. Just gotta catch the perfect moment now..." Brooke declared mischievously, looking over at me. Her face softened as she caught sight of me. What? Don't tell me I was being childish and crying now. "Hey Sar... I promise, this plan will work. How can it not?" Brooke said as she threw an arm around my shoulders to hug me tightly.

"I know... I'm confident that it'll work too." I put on my best 'Sara Sidle' smile. "C'mon. Let's get outta here. I don't even want to think about it anymore. For now, I just want to forget about it."

"All righty then... Besides, it's starting to smell like skank... Erm, I mean... _skunk_ in here anyways." Brooke joked as we stood up and I shut my locker on the way out.

Going out into the parking lot, we cut across it to get to Brooke's car. The thought of her car made me think of my own which was no longer in my possession. The car and my personal possessions were no longer in my custody.

"Now what's that look for?" Brooke asked as we stood at our doors.

"I don't have my car anymore." I blurted out before I had a chance to think.

"What?" Brooke inquired incredulously. "You got _jacked_?"

Not saying another word, I opened the door and got in, buckling in just before staring straight ahead thoughtlessly. Brooke mimicked my actions for a second or two before I felt her vision shift from straight-ahead to me.

"You got _jacked_?" Brooke asked again with more mirth in her voice now.

"Yes." I answered finally.

"Oh _wow_... Now what the Hell are you gonna do for your work? Gonna catch the bus everyday?" Brooke seemed to want to play this game with me suddenly.

"If that's what it takes to get to work." I replied, serious about the answer.

"Ah, Hell no... No worries, Sar... I won't leave you like that, catching a bus or a cab to get to work... Whatcha say after the appointment, we waste some time by going somewhere, and then as soon as we find an open dealership, I'll go get you a car." _What the..._

"This soon? You have that much money on you right now to go by a car like a candy bar?" It was my turn to have the incredulous tone.

As Brooke reached behind her to the backseat, my eyes followed as she pulled up a black leather duffle bag. Unzipping it, it exposed bricks of C-notes upon C-notes bound in them. My mouth drooped open in amazement at the vast amount of money right before my eyes. How did Brooke get that much money so suddenly? I didn't recall the duffle bag in the car before this point.

"I got lucky." Was all she said.

I knew better than to just settle for that answer, but I just couldn't seem to form any other words to speak. Maybe it was because it was also that it was a possibility. This _is_ Vegas... Gambling Central. She could've gone and won it on several good hands of Black Jack.

"So whatcha say? It'll be a thank you for pulling yourself outta work early for lil' ole me. Any car in the store." Brooke promised as she started the car.

"Are you serious?" Reality could suck even more if this was a dream.

"Very. Now c'mon. Let's go visit this psycho that dragged me outta bed at 1:00 this morning. I'm ready to kill him for that already." Brooke said as she pulled off.

A short drive down the road with several varying turns here and there, and suddenly Brooke came to a sudden stop at a two level building with a teal exterior paint. The bright color repelled against the darkness that surrounded it and I already got a shiver of my own just staring at it. Knowing what was inside didn't help the shiver either, despite the fact that this visit wasn't for me.

"C'mon Brooke." I encouraged softly as I noticed she was frozen there solid.

Grumbling death words under her breath, she reluctantly got outta the car and followed me up the walkway to the door. Getting the door, I allowed her to enter before me and strolled in after her. Searching around the empty foyer, I stared left and right before looking forward toward another door that read, "Family Services". That had to be it.

Guiding Brooke by her shoulder, we entered an office's waiting room to find several people were already in there as well. Was this a habit for the doctor? Making wary eye contact with all of them, particularly one that had a nervous bouncing habit with his right leg, Brooke and I walked to the receptionist's desk to sign in. An elderly woman sat behind the desk and gave us a quaint smile.

"What is your name, and who are you here for?" She asked.

"Brooke Waters for Dr. Dingman." Brooke spoke up softly.

"Dr. Dingman is in with another patient right now, so he might be a couple minutes overdue, but he'll be with you shortly." The receptionist announced.

"Thank you." Brooke said as we walked back into the waiting room.

And the waiting commenced. It was even more monotonous and tedious a task than my case was. But Brooke talking to me about casual matters made it withstandable. She too, had noticed the now pacing man who seemed to be anxious to get in or out of here, and quickly at that. We both kept a sharp eye on him, not knowing his intentions or his mental stability. Brooke and I refused to leave each other alone in the waiting room while that man was pacing the floor. But as I started to drift to sleep, and Brooke's bladder wasn't holding out since it was a half an hour past her appointment, Brooke finally stood up to abandon me, though I wasn't particularly worried about my own health. I knew how to defend myself when I needed to.

Through only my half sleeping eyes, I witnessed the pacing man jostle Brooke in the side a bit too roughly for my liking. Rustling from my sleep and on alert now that I saw the rising anger in Brooke's face, I stood up immediately, ready to intervene when needed.

"Hey! Buddy!" Brooke yelled at the now snickering and pacing man. As he turned around, Brooke landed a right hook right to the man's face which sent him flying backwards into the wall.

The other patients just watched in amusement and cheered them on as the man got back to his feet and made a hasty move to strike back at Brooke. Without a second thought, I reached out and snatched the arm he was going to hit with and twisted it into a painful position. Kicking at the backs of his knees, I forced him down to the ground in a submission. But I forgot that Brooke was still in front of me hopping mad. By the time I figured to get Brooke to back off, she'd already wound up her foot and kicked the subdued man right in the stomach with her boots.

"Brooke!" I barked at her before I yelped as the man threw me off of him in his own rage.

Falling back and watching from my new position on the ground, I watched as he lunged at Brooke with his fist. Rapidly, a full-blown fistfight developed in front of my eyes, as well as the other patients' eyes. Brooke was slamming him against walls while he was trying not to get killed by Brooke as the fight progressed. The man was already bleeding from the face by the time, and now it was Brooke who I had to worry about. Working together with the psychiatrist that had come out from his office, we finally succeeded in getting Brooke off of the man as she sat on his chest and beat on his face repeatedly. As the psychiatrist checked on the nearly unconscious man, I held Brooke back with everything I had, which appeared to be just enough as I almost let her slip through me several times.

"Calm down Brooke! The guy is down! You beat the guy unconscious." I announced to her struggling body.

The psychiatrist called upon several of his colleagues to get the man out of the room and call the paramedics. Once the doctor approached us, I had managed to calm Brooke down some before the doctor spoke up.

"Are you Brooke Waters?" He asked breathlessly now from breaking Brooke up.

"Yeah, what the Hell is it to you?" Brooke barked at the man.

He never offered a word as he passed a small information card to Brooke and retreated. "Forget it. I don't need to sit down and talk to you to find out you have anger problems. Just go to Anger Management. There's my treatment. Now go, _please_ just go before you cause anymore problems." He said as he walked back toward his office.

Leading Brooke out of the office, we were now back out into the foyer and I stared at the sign. "24/7 Anger Management Classes." I read out loud on one of them. "Let's go, Muhammad."

"He deserved it! The prick knew that I was right there, bumped into me and then continued to do it while laughing! People like that need to be taught a lesson, Sara!" Brooke fought her case defensively.

"Sure Brooke. A lesson." I said as I guided her toward the A/M class.

Cracking open the door, we peered in to witness a guy, a grown man, bursting into tears as the other people gave him kind and supportive words to make him feel better. Yes, this was definitely Anger Management. Emotional healing with people you hardly even know.

"It's okay Frank. We know that you didn't truly mean to throw the poodle out the window. Remember, we're here to help you answer your questions of," A woman with a rather nasally speech said to the class who suddenly pitched in. "'Why are we mad and what are we mad at?'"

"Sara... This can't be for real." Brooke asked in horror.

"Unfortunately, I can't lie to you. This is it." I said opening the door a little wider and forcing Brooke to enter with me.

"Ah! Ms. Waters! We were expecting you!" The lady said a bit too cheerfully for my taste.

Brooke gave a confused and slightly frightened look to me. She mouthed the words, _How does she know that I'm supposed to be here? I just got sent here a few seconds ago._

I shrugged as an answer and took her to the back of the class and sat down in the desks. I had no problem sliding into mine, but Brooke had some minor difficulties as she squished herself into the seat in a less than comfortable manner.

"So, it seems you were sent here for your uncontrollable rage and conflicted feelings on the inside... So, why don't you stand up and tell us a little bit about yourself, hm?" She asked chipperly.

I watched Brooke's face cringe in distaste of the woman, but it was hardly noticeable. "No thank you. There are other people here that have more serious problems here to deal with than me. I'm fine." Brooke put up a good front.

"Now, now... _Denial_ is the first sign that there's a problem." The woman insisted. "C'mon, just stand up and tell us about yourself."

"No thank you..." Brooke was saying through partly gritted teeth now.

"Ms. Waters. We can't help you deal with your anger if you don't let us." She was just such a persistent woman, wasn't she?

Giving Brooke a warning glare, I watched as she stood up but the desk remained attached to her behind. Squished between the chair and the attached desk, Brooke struggled to remove the desk part of the seat by ripping it off.

"M-Ms. Waters, p-please don't..." The woman tried to calm Brooke down as Brooke continued to pry the desk off the seat.

Finally succeeding in separating the wooden desk from the chair, she tossed it off to the side and kicked the chair along with it. The lady winced with the noisy clattering noise the objects made clashing together and banging against the floor. Once Brooke was assured that the desk no longer restrained her and the teacher wasn't going to talk, she cleared her voice and began to talk.

"I don't have any anger issues here folks. I'm a perfectly happy woman right here. Do you see this face?" Brooke indicated her blank face that now held no expression of either happiness or anger to it. The teacher nodded skittishly. "This is my _happy face_. And you _all_..." Brooke indicated the whole classroom. "would be as _lucky_ as I am, to be this happy."

And with that and the speechless class, she promptly left, leaving me to stand up and catch up to her as she walked proudly out of the class as they applauded after her.

As we went back to the car, the applauding classroom still within earshot, I turned to her with a smirk. "I think that went very well, don't you?"

"Indeed, I do. I feel much better now. Can't say the same for the desk though." Brooke said as we left the building.

_TBC_

* * *

A/N2: I know, I know.. This whole chapter was dedicated to just anger management which was only the smallest part of the story, but DAH well. But now, I've got **SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT TO ASK**! Really, seriously... I've come across some internal question about the story, and I've decided to leave the decision up to **YOU! **My plans for the story in future chapters are really going to veer off the original track somewhat, because it'll kinda focus on everyone's lives. And that's really the Action/Adventure part of the story when I go into people's lives, particularly Brooke's. But I was wondering... **DO YOU WANT ME TO REVISE THE SUMMARY AND CONTINUE WRITING WHAT I HAD PLANNED OR DID YOU WANT ME TO FOCUS ON THE GSR PART AND WRITE THE ACTION/ADVENTUREY STUFF IN ANOTHER STORY AFTER THIS? **I promise that the action/adventurey would satisfy all of you Lady Heather haters. Promise. Because everything ties together in a weird way in my stories. So, PLEASE let me know what you want because I'm tryna make everyone happy. A'ight? Thank you, well now, I'm gonna reply to some reviewers from last chapt.

odeepblue: I'm glad that I've got you mystified as to what my plans are... But as long as you keep reviewing, I'll keep updating. Deal?

anneruhland: Twin Tornados; haha I like that! And you're right, Grissom won't know what happened to him now that Sara has Brooke.

dakota11: OMG do you know how much I laughed when I read your review? "Sara needs to get gangsta on LH and she needs a cool car like Brooke's." Omg that made my day when I read that. Yes, Sara will indeed be acting OOC now that Brooke has come into the picture, and it's a little more than you think. But I'll try to give you as much backstory so that it makes sense why she's like that. And as for the car, hey... Stick around for next chapter. And haha... I'm glad you can imagine younger Sara dancing, because she's gonna show that she's not like that anymore in a few chapts. from now.

forensicsgirl97: Yes, it was a VERY interesting lifestyle for Sara & Brooke. I'm gonna elaborate on that lifestyle as I go, IF PEOPLE RESPOND TO MY QUESTION IN THE ABOVE A/N2! Lol, dunno why I hadta say that, but I just hadta. Oh yeah, and the song? That was "Ain't Nuttin' But A G Thang" by Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre. Awesome song for listening to, dancing to, singing/rapping to... Whatever. It's just all around awesome, like my reviewers!

dark-girl-faith-sidle: If Sara was like this on the show, I think that would make things much more fun, but I have no complaints on Sara Sidle as she is. She's my favorite character! I mean, c'mon, who doesn't love Sara Sidle here? And no, not in that creepy stalker way... Thank you for the reviews, as always.

As well as everyone else out there! They mean everything to me! Okay, now I'll shut up before I ramble on. Keep those reviews coming please! They'll make me very happy! )

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	8. Dealership Brooke's Home Life

A/N: I must say, this was the quickest chapter I've written so far! Ideas just kept coming one after another and quite fluently. Plus the fact that I just blew off all homework I had, so that maximized my writing time. ) Aren't you all so lucky? Well, this chapter is light in the beginning, and then it goes into Brooke's past slightly for those of you that want a backstory on Brooke. But mind you! This is a small tidbit of Brooke's past. Still much more to come. So, enjoy! Oh yeah, and I may say one bad little swear in here, but it's nothing y'all can't handle, right? Let me know though, but you probably won't. P

Disclaimer: _No_.

Chapter 8: Dealership + Brooke's Home Life

Brooke's POV:

"Now, _this_ is what I'm talking about" I commented on the dealership as Sara and I entered.

With the duffle bag containing the $300,000 dollars slung over my shoulder, I walked in a little more and stared at these little go-karts. Or at least, that's what I considered them when I compared them to mine.

Glancing behind me at Sara, I watched how she eyed one of the Bentleys near the front. I watched as she sauntered over to it and began to inspect it for herself.

"Nice color" She commented on the silvery, grayish color that the car had.

"Yeah, if you Puffy" I snickered at her as I continued to look around.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall and slim figure advancing toward me in a dark blue suit and a bald head. Turning to be greeted by the car salesmen, I saw that look that said he was determined to get us to buy something. He was of a like color to me, so he must have figured that would create some type of bond between us. Yeah... RIGHT.

"Good afternoon, sisters I'm Warren Morris, and if there's anything I could help you with, I'm your dog" I had to refrain from laughing at the guy as he tried to use street language in an educated voice. Knowing Sara, she was probably back there doing the same thing.

But my eyes wandered quickly to behind the man where I saw even better cars on display. One in particular caught my eyes without a second glance. Pushing past the guy in a rather rude and rough manner, I jumped down the steps and made my way to the car. With the enthusiasm of a little kid hyped up on candy in a candy shop, I inspected everything about the car.

"Get the Hell outta here, man! Is that the new 993 Turbo?" I asked in amazement, sensing him coming up behind me.

"Actually, that's the 993 Carrera." He corrected me promptly.

"Shit! It got eight cylinders? They kick out six-hundred horsepower, right?" I claimed as I looked for him, not really looking for conformation but did it anyways.

"That's _six_ cylinders, _four_-hundred _seventy-five _horsepower." He said with a too perfect smile as he once again, and I leaned against the car, trying to tick this guy off.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes just as they set upon another work of wonder.

"Would you mind not leaning on the..." Warren attempted to tell me off, but I had once again push past him to get to another car.

"Shit! I could get my music banging in this, dog." I said as I ran to the driver's door.

Not even bothering to open the door, I jumped over it and got into the seat. This guy was just waiting to explode. If this didn't tick him off, there was no use. Yeah, I'd get a scolding from Sara later, but oh well. A girl is entitled to her fun every once in a while, right?

Taking out my mixtape from my pocket, I popped it into the tape player and pressed play after starting up the car. Before Warren Morris or anyone else could understand what was happening, the first song echoed through the dealership.

"_It's ladies night what, it must be Angie on the mic  
The Butter P honey got the sugar got the spice  
Roll the L's tight, keep the rhymes right  
Yo I just made this motherbumper up last night"_

"You're not allowed to play any music here." He tried to call over the blasting music, but I promptly turned the volume to thirty-five. "Could you turn it off, _please_? Could you turn the music off, please?" He was now screaming as I danced happily inside to the music.

"Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight  
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)  
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right  
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)" I sang along with the chorus.

"Turn the music off! Look, can you turn the music off, please! Can you not hear me? Could you turn the music down, please?" He pleaded vigorously until he reached in and ejected the tape, tossing it in my lap.

"Hey! I was gettin' my groove on there, _brother_..." I said sarcastically.

"It is not a toy." He was making an endeavor to not yell at me as a vein popped out of his forehead.

"A'yo man... You think I could hit some corners in this? Take it on a test drive?" I asked, now on my next mission to tick him off a little bit more seeing as how it only lasted for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. Our policy is no test drives." He said in his normal tone now.

"How about hooking a sister up then?" I inquired next, truly wanting to try the car out and not buy it.

"_Hooking a sister up_?" Warren said in an amused tone. "The cheapest car we have here is _$75, 000_." He said.

"That it?" I said nonchalantly as I felt the bag over my shoulder getting out of the car now.

Suddenly, the sight of a preoccupied Sara going toward one of the exotic cars that I definitely didn't seem to think was suitable for work, but whatever floated her boat.

"Hey, Brooke! Stop harassing the man. This is it." Sara called over without even laying eyes on us.

"Oh, yeah. See? My girl's got taste." I said proudly as I went over to her.

"Yes, well, she's got something." I heard him mumbling under his breath as I walked away.

"Damn man!" Now I knew she wasn't shopping for a work car, and if it was, well... She'd be catching more than a couple of eyes on the way there. "This shit is hot, man How much? $200 thou?" I directed the question to Warren as he approached.

"Actually, $285." He was back to correcting me.

Staring at him in shock, I replied. "It better get me laid for two eighty-five man." I let my crude humor go.

"Actually, there are only seven of these for sale in the U.S." Warren informed as I half noticed Sara inspecting the interior thoroughly.

"That many, huh?" I asked with an arched eyebrow. "Pop the hood, girl. I want to see what $285 look like." I instructed Sara as I moved to the front of the car.

"That's the hood. _That's _the trunk." He made a sad attempt to joke by reversing the names of the places. I laughed weakly and sarcastically along with him. When he realized that he was about as funny as a hole in my head, he shut up and cleared his throat. "Ah, never mind." He spoke under his breath with embarrassment.

"Yo, start it up, Sar." I told Sara next. She sent me a quiet glare, telling me to behave myself without a doubt, but I just scoffed.

"_It's only a little bit of fun."_ I signed to her in ASL.

"_Watch yourself before I have to."_ She warned back in ASL.

"No, I'm sorry. It's our policy. You can't start up the car. It's policy. Sorry." I saw quickly that the other salesman behind him, a white man with actual hair, tossed Sara the keys. Warren saw this too, for he turned back to him in anger. "What in the..." He never got to finish his sentence above the loud roaring of the engine.

_Yeah, she tells me to behave myself, but she's doing it herself. Sara hasn't changed at all._ I thought to myself as I relaxed to the sound of the revving engine.

Unfortunately, a certain annoying salesman by the name of Warren Morris had to disturb my peace. "Hey, you! Turn off the engine!" He barked at Sara, who was showing no signs of stopping. Girl was deaf sometimes, or was she toying with him too? He was just so easy to annoy, and he needed to lay off the strictness. He ain't the boss when I step through the door. _I_ am. "Would you turn off the engine, please?" He yelled over the roar of that beauty of an engine.

"Yeah, yeah!" I cheered Sara on.

"Could you turn off," Sara chose the perfect timing to turn off the engine. "the _motherfucking_ engine!" He screamed at the top of his lungs through the whole store. As he stared around, his colleagues stared at him in astonishment.

"You don't have to yell. All you had to do was ask. You'll get much better results." Sara said coolly as she sat back now, hand resting on the steering wheel nonchalantly.

"Will you _please _just _leave_?" The vein popped out of his forehead once more as he seethed.

"No. I want this." She said unperturbedly as she looked over at me. "If that's all right with you."

Before I could give my answer, the salesman intervened quite rudely. "Well, unless you decide you'd like to _live _in this, I suggest that you..." I interrupted him now.

"_I_ suggest you get started on the paperwork." I stated with a snap of my fingers.

He laughed at me quietly for a second, looking back at his more generous white friend. "What do these people think...?" He told him before I unzipped the duffle bag and flashed the large wads of money at him. "Oh my God." He said as a breath escaped him as he reached for the money but I swatted his hand away.

"There's $300 in there." I said, tossing the bag over to the man behind him, the only one that'd helped us all along. "Make sure he gets the commission."

"He get..." Warren said with disbelief and shock.

"Right this way ladies." The man said as we walked with him to go do the paperwork. "By the way, the name's Mike."

After all the paperwork was done with, we were on our way, walking back to the car.

"Keep the change." I threw him a thankful wink as he stood in the doorway of his office as I got on the passenger side and opened the Lamborghini doors.

With Sara starting the engine up again, I put the mixtape in once more and blasted my song once more and the guy gave me a grateful smile as I closed the door and settled in. My car was still at Sara's apartment where we'd stopped while waiting for a car dealership to open, we'd gotten here by taxi cab. Now we were getting out of there.

As Sara was revving the engine again, Warren called out again, glancing between us and the duffle bag. "Maybe I made a mistake. You know?" He tried to make amends, but it was a day late and a dollar short. "We're both homies. All of us here. Why don't you... Homies! I'm your man!" Was the last thing I heard as Sara pulled out of the dealership through the exit in the back for the cars.

As Sara drove down the highway now, at the speed limit though it seemed to be going faster than that with this car, I couldn't resist the urge to stand up in the car and dance while standing up.

"Oh this is ladies night, and our rhymes is tight  
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)  
Oh this is ladies night, and the feel is right  
Oh this is ladies night, oh what a night (oh what a night)." I sang with the chorus once more, waving my arms around with the beat, caught up in the music.

"Brooke!" Sara called as she yanked me down by my shirt.

"Sorry, couldn't resist. Always wanted to do that." I said with an ear-to-ear grin.

"You're going to get me in trouble one of these days, I can just feel it." She said with an eye roll as she drove on.

"Not intentionally, but I can't promise anything with the accidental stuff." I said as I continued to dance in my seat to the song.

Sara, claiming to be slightly tired, said she'd like to just go home and sleep like she normally did, no offense intended to me. The drive back wasn't uncomfortably silent, but I could still sense something was wrong. I wanted to ask, but decided against it seeing as how my sister was a very private person and when she felt up to it, she would tell me. There was just some things you didn't push with Sara Sidle, and I decided to behave myself for once, if only for her sake.

It's been that way since we were kids. Albeit, she never talked much about anything in the beginning, she did open up finally. And when she did, I was appalled by what she had to say. Back then, even my previous home life wasn't as horrific as what Sara's was like. Sure, I went through what every abused child went through. With my biological parents, I barely remembered my Mother because she died when I was a small child, only turning five. I barely remembered anything about her now, except for some points when I closed my eyes, I could still here her voice. It sounded a lot like Sara's. That might've been why I attached to Sara immediately when we were in the same foster home. But my Father was just as devastated about my Mother's death as I was. While other people were calling me a miracle baby for surviving a car crash like that, my Father resented me and blamed me for my Mother's death. While the car had flipped down the hill after we got rammed by the eight-wheeler from the side, my Mother's first reaction was to guard and protect me so she jumped in the backseat and embraced me. Somewhere between the shattering glass and the bouncing motion the car was in, my Mother took all of the hits and as the car landed, my Mother went flying out of the car through the window and landed several feet away from the car. I escaped virtually unharmed physically, but the mental scars I still had will never leave me.

Within a year of my Mother's death, no only had my Father's hatred of me grow fierier by the day, he also started on habits that directly affected me. Instead of the loving Father that once would lay down his life, he now invited his alcoholic friends and gave them no barriers as to what they could do in the house, which didn't stop on what they could do to me. Every time, if he walked in while it was happening, he would simply scoff and slam the door back shut and continue on with what he was doing. And just as his hate for me had developed very easily, a resentment of my own toward him formed then as well.

Soon enough, my Father started to join in on the Abuse Train his friends had started, and then I was constantly enduring pain night by night. More I cried, more pain that was inflicted. And torture could range from anything from baseball bats to punching bag practice with me as the punching bag. And afterwards, he was kick me downstairs to the basement, literally, and lock me down there for days until the bruises partially healed, tossing down raw meat occasionally to feed me. My life at home wasn't much better than an abused dog's life.

But Sara's topped mine by a mile. When we both had opened up to each other about our home life before the Crooks, we had made a silent vow to each other to keep the other one safe from harm since then. All of the long term sexual abuse that she had to put up with her father, her mother included and all her mother would do is remain submissive through the whole ordeal. Her brother, Marc, wasn't much better. He refused to get involved, so he sunk into the life of drugs and alcohol to numb his pain and misery. But Sara remained a fighter and put up with it night after night. Told the same lies day after day to her teachers and counselors, and kept up with her school, always looking for a brighter day. Hopeful... Something I never had, and I used to envy her for it.

But sometimes vows are hard to keep, especially when they involve another person. Judging on the look on Sara's masked face, I could tell I hadn't kept up my end of the bargain. I sunk further into the seat at that revelation.

Pulling into Sara's parking space, we sat there for a second or two to soak up the hot Las Vegas sun. It felt good hitting my skin directly, warming my bones that seemed to freeze inside of me.

"Hey, this isn't gonna be your work car, is it?" I asked while I still had my eyes shut.

"No... They provide work cars at work. This is just so I can get to work without having to call on someone." Her gaze fell upon me. "So do you have to go?"

"Being around a tired Sara Sidle makes me a tired Brooke Waters!" I said as I opened my eyes and managed a smile for her. "I need to rest and get something to eat, man. So unless you wanna cook me something, and give me the couch, I best be out."

"I'm tired myself, I might fall asleep at the stove." Sara joked.

"Well, does it look like I want your head in my food? I prefer my food to be headless, thank you very much." I commented as I got out of the car. "Hey, if you want... On another day, maybe I could re-paint the car Brooklyn style, huh? Whatcha say?"

"Not without me there. I don't need it to come back looking like the Graffiti walls back in Brooklyn." Sara said with a sarcastic tone as she got out too, taking out her stuff from the car. "I know... Call you later. I will."

"All right. Catch you later Sar." I called as I went for my car.

"Sure thing." She called as she walked toward her apartment.

Sighing and placing my sunglasses on, I entered my car and drove home without another sound or word. A half an hour's drive brought me to "my" house, which stood in the middle of the Snakebacks' territory. Switch from one ghetto to the other. My car looked so out of place from the rest of the area, but that was understandable. Technically, the car wasn't even mine. It was just a temporary that came with the job I have.

Getting out and staring at the small house in front of me, I began my reluctant walk up the cement walkway to the door, going up three small steps to get to the door. Removing a set of keys from my pocket, I stuck them into the keyhole and rotated it slightly to unlock it. Opening it as quietly as possible, I shut it behind me as I stepped into broken up living room. It seemed that Jennifer's boyfriend was on a rampage again... Why hadn't she called me, I thought as I slowly began to pick up the debris laying on the floor. It was routine... Take the glass and throw it away first, then pick up everything else. Lastly, arrange the furniture the way it was before the tornado known as Eric blew through here. This time though, as I put the flipped couch back the way it was, I found a bloody knife underneath it. Eyes widening in horror, I dropped everything and ran to Jennifer's bedroom.

On my trip down the hall, I saw two bloody streaks trailing down the hall toward the bedroom. Rushing, I kicking the closed door in as I walked in and gasped at the sight of my good friend curled up in the corner of the room shaking uncontrollably.

"Jen." I whispered softly to her as I ran to her and dropped to my knees in front of her. The bloody streaks led right to her. "Jesus, why didn't you call me?"

"I tried to but I couldn't get up to move to the phone..." Her voice was barely a whisper to keep it from cracking.

Unsure of what she meant, it showed in my eyes as she lifted her pant legs to reveal two stab wounds in her ankles, still bleeding.

"Dammit..." I said to myself. "C'mon, I'm getting you to the hospital Jen... You need to go."

"NO!" She yelled suddenly. "I _can't_. They'll ask what happened and then I'll have to tell them! If I tell them, he'll come back to kill me for sure." Her voice began to crack. "I... I don't know what the Hell to do anymore..." She let another wave of sobs overtake her body and reached out to me.

Gathering her in my arms, I held her there and allowed her to cry on my shoulders. Every time I shifted into a different position to get comfortable, Jen would grip onto my shirt tighter in fear that I was leaving her. It took a little while, but I managed to calm her down and she fell asleep. Crying herself to sleep seemed to be what she did most these days now, but I knew there wasn't much either of us could do. Not at this point anyways, and that was the part I hated to accept the most.

Lifting her into my arms, I carried her over to her bed and laid her down gently. The loss of our contact made her shrivel into a ball again, but I gripped her hand tightly with mine and rubbed lazy circles with my thumb until she calmed down in her unconscious state. The sight of my stitched up knuckles on my hand that grasped Jen's hand, my jaw clenched at the sight, knowing this was partly his fault too. How I managed to even associate with Eric at times, which our "relationship" was a combatant one, I will never comprehend. Every time he remains civil in the house, even then I want to inflict dire pain while he's wide open and vulnerable. But for once, I found my impulsive nature wouldn't work to an advantage in this fight.

_It wouldn't work for the better in regards to Jen..._ I thought to myself as I looked up at her face.

A single scratch ran across her forehead, not deep to scar or be serious, but still it was there nonetheless. This was untypical for Eric. He never risked putting his damage on easy public display, which meant the face. His targets were the torso mainly, but sometimes branched out to the limbs.

_This baby's not going to make it either..._ I thought sadly as my eyes flashed over Jen's rounding stomach. _Three and a half months... That bastard._ I said inwardly as I noticed the blood leaking from between Jen's legs.

Not baring the scene any longer, I stood up and walked out of the room, silently closing the door behind me. I needed to know the children were safe, not only my own son, Roxas, but Jen's two children as well, Alex and Kylie. Alex, being ten-years-old, knew that if Eric was acting up to call me in the event that Jen was slightly tied up in the moment. Why hadn't he this time?

Discovering Alex and Kylie's door was closed as well, I knocked lightly on the door. "Alex? Are you guys in there?"

Muffled screams came from within and panic rose in me as I tried to open the door. It was locked though.

_Please don't let Eric be in there with those two and my baby... Please God._ I prayed as I rammed the door in and went in.

Seeing Alex and Kylie tied and gagged on their bed, but well alive made a small wave of relief wash over me. Nonetheless, I took out my gun and cleared the room to ensure Eric wasn't there. Once I was satisfied, I holstered my gun to my waistline again as I untied and ungagged both children and they leapt at me to embrace me.

"Don't let Daddy come back, Auntie... I don't want him to come back." Kylie, an angel faced six-year-old, whimpered in fear.

"I tried Auntie. I really tried. But he was stronger than me." Alex said with fury in his voice... A little boy should not feel fury at this age. "Is Mommy all right?"

"Mommy's gonna be all right, I promise. She's a fighter, so she'll live. Right now she's just resting." I gave them the short and sweet version; no need to make them panic. "Where's Roxas?"

"I hid him in the closet so Eric wouldn't get to him. I know that Eric hates Rox just as much as he hates you..." Alex explained as he got off the bed and walked with wobbly legs over to his rug.

Shifting the rug to a different spot, it revealed a trap door we all knew was there. I had insisted that we build it just incase of times like this. Alex raised the door up and exposed my twenty-two month baby boy, Roxas James Waters, sleeping unharmed in the compartment. Reaching down, I brought my baby boy into my arms and held him closely as I took Alex into my arms as well. Going over to the bed and sitting down, Kylie crawled into my lap and curled up insecurely, seeking protection out of me. Settling them in comfortably, Roxas already dead asleep, I encased them in my arms as I laid down next to them.

"When you're feeling lost in the night  
When you feel your world just ain't right  
Call on me I will be waiting  
Count on me I will be there  
Anytime the times get too tough  
Anytime your best ain't enough  
I'll be the one to make it better  
I'll be there to protect you, see you through  
I'll be there and there is nothing  
I won't do..." I softly began to sing my special song to them to get them to fall asleep.

In no time at all, the little ones were asleep with tears still streaming down their face, knowing now was the time to let it out when I was around. They refused to cry at any other time.

Just how a monster like Eric could make two wonderful children like Alex and Kylie, I will never understand. It must just be Jen's genes in them. But in some ways, I did see a little bit of Eric in Alex and Kylie, Alex especially. Apart from the lilac eyes that he definitely inherited from his father, he also got his father's determination and strength. It's just that they used them for two opposite reasons. Eric used them to harm, while Alex used them to terminate harm from the ones he loves. Eric's slight brownish color skin was another thing Alex had of his father's but that was it.

As for Kylie, I could see little to none of Eric in her except when she got mad. The anger part she shared with her father, unfortunately enough, and I knew it was influenced directly from him. She'd grown up watching the violence, but thankfully it never touched her directly. If anything were to ever harm either of the children, just like I would for my own child, I would kill for them.

After I was assured the children were asleep from their deep breathing, I slipped out of their room discreetly to check up on Jen. A bump was heard from down the hall in her room and I picked up the pace as I walked into her room to see her stumbling to stand, leaning up against the wall for support. It didn't last for long as she slid to the floor, tears in her eyes once more. Going to her side once more, I sat there for several seconds to see if she wanted to say anything. It was in her eyes; she just wanted to see her children.

"At least let me dress the wounds..." I said softly.

Her voice choked up on the words so her resolve was to nod. Leaving her there on the floor, I went into her bedroom's bathroom and removed the bandages from the medicine cabinet, along with antiseptic wash and a towel. Departing from the bathroom, I went back to her side and began the regular process of cleaning the wounds and bandaging them up. It took mere minutes, but her silent tears ran on far after the dressing was done. Shifting to a crouching position beside her, I took one of her arms and threw it over my neck as my arm snaked around her waist. Getting a firm grip of her belt on her pants, I lifted her up and forced all of her weight on me. I dragged her out of the room without any help from her, down the hall to the kids' room, where I promptly and quietly, opened the door and stood there.

"They're so perfect... So beautiful." Jen mumbled under her breath as she watched the sleeping figures. "How did I ever deserve them? Why do I put them through this Hell? They deserve better."

"Even if you wanted to put them in a different predicament, they wouldn't want to go so long as you're still stuck here." I sighed as I watched my own son, knowing this wasn't fair to him either. "They're stubborn, like someone I know..." I attempted to joke to make her feel better.

Fighting with consciousness now, Jen let a weak smile pass just before her head fell onto my shoulder. If I thought the weight was heavy before, when she was complete deadweight, I almost collapsed from the pressure. Readjusting my grip on her belt and gripping her arm a little tighter, I adjusted it so it was comfortable for me to lug her out of the room and back to her own. Setting her back down on her bed, I sat down next to her and stared out the window above her bed.

A clear day in a gloomy household. How lovely.

_TBC..._

A/N2: Yes, it gets very heavy at the end. Sorry... Couldn't resist. But not that I have too much time on my hands right now to talk in this, so please just R&R... It shows me a lil' TLC people.. )

Peace out, one love,

MC New York


	9. Love Bites

A/N: All right then... This is a really bi-polar chapter. It couldn't decide whether it wanted to be sad and lovesick or if it wanted to be slightly revealing or if it wanted to be a little bit on the comical side. Blame it on a woman's monthly friend people, sorry. But on a brighter note, I loved the responses to last chapter! It was just like, WHA-BAM! Oh yeah, and Ash Reily, you are one dedicated reader. That's what you call "Speedy Updating". It was one right after the other. Thanks, you fed my review hunger because I just found out I'm a review-lover-holic. Hehe... Well, here's the 9th chapter, however it may suit you!

Disclaimer: ... Nothing... And I don't own the song or the radio station either. Though my cousin does work at the radio station on some weekends.

Chapter 9: Love Bites

Sara's POV

It was back to work again, and I was off to the usual spot I went when I first arrived. Break room.

Instead of the normally dead silent or lightly chattering that occupied the room, halfway down the hall, I could already hear their excited and anxious chatter.

_Ugh, what could've happened now? Don't tell me Ecklie's acting up again._ I thought miserably to myself as I entered. "Hey! Guys? What's going on? I could you hear you guys like a mile away."

"It figures you'd forget already." Greg announced from the couch. "The Annual Police Ball, Miss Cinderella? Did you already forget about it? Ecklie made the announcement about two or three weeks ago!"

_Oh damn._ I thought to myself.

Determined to push the dreadful thought of the social gathering out of my mind, I walked over to the fridge and removed a water bottle, knowing the coffee would set me in an even worse mood. I couldn't believe that was already here. And with remembering that, I remembered Warrick and Nick's promise to me last year, which I had missed. They told me, "_If you miss this one, you're going to the next year's one for sure._" Joy.

"Oh no. She didn't forget. She just thought that if she didn't mention it, that Nick and I wouldn't remember our little promise we made to her last year." Warrick said with a cool voice. "But we didn't Sara."

I felt someone approach me as I stood against the refrigerator. Instantly, an arm was slung over my shoulders and hugged me tightly. Nick had the largest grin on his face, which opposed my distasteful scowl. I knew there was no way of getting out of this one unless I faked my own death.

"C'mon Sara! It won't be that bad! Don't be more stubborn than Grissom! I heard he's going with a 'mysterious lady'." Nick said as he announced the latest rumor of the Gossip Mill. "And if Grissom's going, you shouldn't be nearly as stubborn about going. Grissom's _never_ gone to one of these things, and you've gone about two times."

All thoughts of the Ball forgotten, the only part out of all that Nick said were the parts concerning Grissom. Misery was replaced with hurt and jealousy once more, but I turn down the thought of letting it over take me. The "mysterious lady" had to be Lady Heather. There was no other person that popped into my mind. On first thought of the Ball, knowing Grissom was going, or so it was heard, with Lady Heather, I declined the thought indefinitely, but something else came into mind shortly afterward.

Brooke's plan.

If I told Brooke, she would see the opportune moment to execute the plan like I just did. But it would be in front of all those people! And not just any people, but police officers and everyone else that worked in or with the PD. Sure, she held no shame in the embarrassing things she did in public, but I did.

But instead of declining like my mind was screaming to do, the opposite came out. "All right then. I suppose it couldn't hurt to go one more time. When is it?"

"Tomorrow night." Was the reply I got from everyone.

In my mind, I was throwing a childish temper tantrum, but I left my exterior expression expressionless. Just wonderful. Just like Greg's earlier comment, I was Cinderella. No clothes to dress up in to wear to the ball. Nothing to impress the Prince with. As the story would go, "What a pity."

_Brooke... I'm half afraid to let her come to the ball, but there was no other way. I have to call and let her know tonight._ I told myself and made a mental note. "Hey, where's Grissom anyways? He's late with assignments." I heard Greg ask as he made a note of the time.

"I'll go look for him in his office." I said subconsciously, slipping out of Nick's embrace and left the room. _What did I just say?_

Before I could have a sensible thought pass through my mind, an obviously blank thought train, Grissom's office was already in sight. Standing outside the silent room, door closed for the second time in two days, I tapped the frame lightly with my knuckles and awaited a reply.

"Come in." I heard his voice resonate from within.

Taking a deep breath, as if the room beyond this door were oxygen deprived, I opened the door and stood in the threshold, my usual spot in his office. Not quite inside, yet not quite out. The story of our demented relationship, it seemed.

"You planning on giving us our assignments any time soon Griss?" I called out to him softly, seeing him obliviously occupied with his paperwork.

His eyes shot up and met mine in an instant. They locked for a second, which to me was an eternity, but his was the one to falter all too hastily. I never found myself staring away from his blue orbs whenever they crossed paths on my own. I usually had to tell myself to look away to avoid any further embarrassment I would land myself in.

Turning my head away from him, I softly cleared my voice to myself as I shifted uncomfortably in my place from the tension. I was tired of this tension we had together. Even if we made no advancements, I wanted the tension to at least go. At least when I first moved here, things were always awkward between us until I made it awkward.

With my head still down, contemplating over our positions right now, I didn't notice him standing from his seat and retreating out of the office. A man on a mission, he didn't consider once telling me to step aside to let him pass through effortlessly. That was the cause of our bodies coming into physical contact with each other as he slid across the opening. With the loss of mass in front of me now, I felt my breath of air leave with him out the door. For a moment I just sat there and reveled in that smell I had come to associate with Grissom for the longest time; clean, fresh, and tempting.

Not wanting to appear lost, I shut off the lights in his office with the switch on the wall just behind me and walked out, closing the door behind me. I followed after him to the break room and came in behind him just as he started to settle the keyed up group of investigators.

"Can we please concentrate on this now? Crime calls our names loud and clear." He spoke to the team as they quieted down. "All right, Warrick? Greg? You two have a B&E in Summerlin. Nick? You've got a solo DB in the forest just a little ways from Greg and Nick's crime scene. Make sure to compare notes to see if they're related in any way, shape or form. Sara, Catherine? Are you two anywhere close to wrapping up your case yet?" Grissom seemed to ignore me completely and look at Catherine.

"The girlfriend is down at PD, ready to be interrogated. We have strong enough evidence to suggest that she did it all, and it was premeditated." Catherine answered promptly.

"Good. Well, that's all. I have a case of my own to tend to, so if you need to contact me, my cellphone and pager as usual." He announced as he turned to leave, eyes quickly locking with mine for a short time. Just as he was about to leave completely, and the chattering was starting up softly, he called over his shoulder. "And don't let the Police Ball excite you too much. You still have work to do." And with that, he was gone.

Catherine walked up to my side and stared at Grissom's back as he proceeded down the hallway and made a quick left for the main lobby.

"He is a strange one..." Catherine mumbled to herself under her breath. "Care to join me in the interrogation?"

"Would you mind if I didn't this time?" I asked as I glanced questioningly over to her.

"Not at all. More glory for me to have." Catherine gave me a large, toothy smile as she went down the hall, her heels marking her leave.

_Case solved._ I told myself. _Great... Now I'm stuck with nothing to do._

After some quick thinking, the thought of catching up with Grissom before he left to offer help with his case came to mind. Setting off at a jog, I made my way for the main lobby and then parking lot. Looking around for his car, I saw him standing in the middle of the parking lot staring with fascination, but I couldn't figure what. Continuing to jog up to him, I slowed down when I was only a few feet behind him.

"Grissom!" I exclaimed out as I sauntered up to him now.

"Sara? Do you know who owns that car? The Lamborghini?" He asked as he pointed over to my new car.

"Mine." I said shortly, not thinking of the consequences of my action. How was I going to explain how I got the car?

"_Yours_?" Grissom said with astonishment in his voice and expressions. "Sara, I don't even make $20,000 a year, and that car looks well over $20,000. When you make less than I do, how do you manage to afford a car like that?"

"I told a friend about my previous car dilemma, and she offered to help." I shrugged, not wanting IA to be involved with this and having to ask senseless questions about Brooke and my life. Might as well be honest with someone that can back me up.

"And they could afford a car like that?" Disbelief still marked his face.

"Yes. She got lucky at a casino." I didn't truly believe Brooke's statement, but used it anyways.

"And what's this friend's name?" He continued to interrogate me, now facing me completely.

I had to stop myself from saying, 'What's it to you?'. Instead, I spoke with an even voice. "Brooke... Brooke Waters." Knowing he wouldn't be satisfied with just a first name, I offered her last name as well.

Putting me under his scrutiny much like he would a piece of evidence, he tried to determine if I was being truthful or not. Internally, that had me feeling slightly taken aback. Since when didn't Grissom trust me or my honesty?

"Was there something you wanted Sara?" Grissom quickly changed the subject.

Recalling my original intentions for seeking him out before the questionnaire about my car, I shifted my weight onto my other foot and immediately became slightly shy. "I was wondering if you needed assistance on your solo case. Catherine's wrapping up the case at PD in the interrogation, and I have nothing else to do." I explained.

"No." He said perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean, I'm sorry, but this is a case that I must handle alone, Sara." He said apologetically for his snap. "Why don't you take the night off? Let yourself off for the night and enjoy yourself for once."

I wanted to insist upon helping him, but the fact that he didn't want help stuck with me. When was there ever a case that you couldn't invite another CSI in on unless it was personal, which you shouldn't even be on because of Conflict of Interest? I watched him silently as the enigma of a man walked to his car and got in before promptly taking off, leaving me behind like usual, both physically and metaphorically.

Wondering feverishly about what his case could be about, I opted to just get into my car and drive around until I found something to do, before unprofessional thoughts such as searching his office for hints of where he was or followed him to his "crime scene".

Making a quick entrance of my new car, now conscious of who was watching, I drove off just as quickly and silently, not wanting anyone else to be suspicious of my new car, or how much it cost.

While on my pointless drive, I contemplated more than once calling Brooke and seeing what she was doing, but decided against it in the end. She was probably at her job, whatever that might be. There was no other person that I knew and deemed a friend that wasn't in the PD and worked any other shift other than night. Not that there were many of them to begin with, but still. I even went so far as to consider calling Catherine after I figured she had wrapped up the interrogation and case and see if she wanted to go out to look for clothes for the Ball tomorrow, even as much horror it would put me through. But I figured also, that Catherine would much rather spend time with her daughter who she just didn't seem to see enough of lately. She wouldn't pass up that time, precious time to her, for me, a person she was just starting to stand as a colleague and partial friend. It just didn't seem logical.

Driving under the Las Vegas lights on the Strip, I looked at the multiple buildings that stood together as if they were leaning on each other for support to stand. It was as if they were mocking me by saying that they had something standing beside them while I was both physically and mentally alone. Scowling unintentionally at the building, I drove on, determined to not let inanimate objects get to my head, despite the fact that there was a small part of me that agreed with the elaborate buildings.

Brooke's POV

Kissing Roxas lightly on the forehead, along with Alex and Kylie, I turned to Jen and gave her my serious face. "Don't let that... Just don't let him in this time. Don't even let him get five feet from the door."

"I promise I won't let him get to the kids, ever." Jen said now that she was feeling slightly better.

"You need to take care of you too, Jen. How can you take care of someone else when you're not even healthy?" I asked not seeking an answer, but got an ashamed expression across Jen's face. Pulling her into a sisterly embrace, I tried to hug the shame and pain away. "Please, if he comes back this time, forget about the repercussions. Just call the police if he comes home like last time again. I don't want to lose you or anyone else in this house because of that prick." I whispered in her ear so the children wouldn't hear my foul language.

"Brooke..." Jen let out an exasperated sigh.

"_Promise me_, or else I won't be able to work tonight without worrying." I pulled back to stare her in the eyes.

"Fine... I promise I'll consider it." She said without any sarcasm or joke. I needed more than a promise to consider from her. This was my baby's life too.

"Then, I'm not leaving you guys tonight." I said steadily, already shedding my jacket from my body and resting on the chair in the living room.

"Fine Brooke, I _will_ call the cops if worst comes to worse." Jen said abruptly.

"If the worse comes at all, you will, you mean." I corrected her, never removing myself from the seat.

"I promise." Jen said with a hidden shudder in her voice.

Detaching myself from the chair I stood up once more and slipped my jacket back on, pulling Jen into another hug in the process. "Thank you." I said sincerely. "I promise I won't be long, but if something comes up or if Roxas is crying too much, call me. I'll be here on a moment's notice."

"All right. I've got it under control." She said as she stood in place with her hands on her hips as I walked out the door.

"Later!" I called as I jogged out and got into my awaiting ride. Sliding into the passenger seat of the Porsche, I slapped hands with my partner for the night, Taj. "Hey... Ready for tonight?"

"Couldn't be anymore." He said slyly as he took off.

A silent car ride later, Taj and I appeared at the rendezvous point. While in the car, I wired Taj with the recorder around his necklace and the hearing piece, incognito as an earring, in his ear. After making sure that everything was in order, I gave him a silent nod. Unexpected to him, I embraced him just before he exited the car, showing any kind of affection to anyone I worked with for the first time ever.

"Wish me luck." He whispered as he pulled back.

"Luck." I whispered back when I watched him get out and walk into the building.

Getting my own equipment together, compliments of "The Man", I placed my hearing piece into my ear and my speaking piece onto the collar of my jacket. Grabbing the binoculars from the glove compartment, I cautiously got out and made sure of my surroundings. Looking a little ways down the street, I saw the black hummer with Manny, our back-up driver and body guard, parked lifelessly. I gave him a small wave to get him to acknowledge the operation was in session now. He nodded back slowly as he lit up another cigarette, a whole sea of cigarette butts sitting below his window. He'd obviously been here a while and was nervous.

Hiding behind a nearby patch of bushes, I set up my base and pointed the binoculars up at the room that they were meeting in. It took several moments for me to find him, but soon I saw Taj joining a group of men at a table, shaking hands with a few of them.

_Since when is Taj proper and polite to other guys?_ I thought silently to myself.

"_Okay... Let's get this meeting started before something goes wrong." _A strangely distorted voice said within the room Taj was in.

"_Where's this D.I.S. person?" _Taj asked to the entire room.

"_We've never met him... He refuses to let us know his real name or where he is. He just contacts us through that computer, and doesn't even show up on the video. It just keeps black the entire time." _ Someone next to Taj whispered to him. _"It's a real mystery, but we don't bother to question it. He's our boss regardless." _Now that sounded familiar.

Ample time passed and I listened in on the entire conversation. Most of it didn't pertain to the information I needed to get, so I spent most of my time just ignoring it but still listening. Finally when it got to the part that we were there for, it had my undivided attention.

"Yeah... That's it. Bust his ass. Get that dirt on him." I mumbled under my breath as I watched from my hiding spot when the dirt was being turned up on our enemies. Now all that remained was to get Taj out of there alive.

"_This weekend at the Red room, Rai, you're taking Blaze. If all goes well, then all is well. But if you lose, make sure you rematch him in a secluded area and win. Is that clear?" _The man known as D.I.S. called the plans as I listened through the ear piece.

_Blaze? What do they want Blaze for? God, "The Man" isn't gonna like this. _ I told myself as I made a mental note on my findings.

If I ever thought I was oblivious to something before, like someone calling out my name in a crowd, that time was a mere pittance to the unawareness that I had now. Unknown to me, a detective had been creeping up behind me and now just choose to make his presence publicly known to me.

"HEY whatcha up to?" He emphasized the beginning as a detective's badge flew in front of my binoculars.

Jumping back, I fought against the impulsive urge to sucker punch the older and balding detective in the stomach and run. "Shit man! Do you always come up on people like that!" I seethed.

"Yeah, I'm trying to break the habit." He said with a sarcastic tongue. "So, what are you doing out at this time of night? Shouldn't you be in your dorm studying for a college test coming up soon or something?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I'm almost thirty-years-old, sir... And I never had the money to go to college." I scoffed as I was now sweating bullets as I was cornered by this cop.

"Whatta pity. But that still doesn't explain what you're doing out here." He shoved it back onto the topic I didn't want open for discussion right now.

"Oh you know... I'm just checking up on my boyfriend. I think he has a thing for the secretary, so I've just gotta check for myself." I made up the fastest lie I could think of, subconsciously trying to hide my receiving and responding devices.

"Hm, spouses. Can't trust them these days, can ya?" He asked as he slowly took my binoculars away from me.

Much rather than resist and look suspicious, I allowed him to take them and try and see what I was seeing. Trying to distract him, I answered back. "Huh, can trust him just about as far as I can throw him. And he a big guy."

"Huh, you know that's funny... I can't see him." I tried not to swallow the lump too loud.

"You can't? He's right up there to the left in the corner." I led him in the opposite direction from the actual window.

"Still nothing... Y'know? I think you should go home and get some rest. Maybe call him up tomorrow and ask him about it." I noticed the binoculars stuck in one place for a second more than I was comfortable with and then lowered them and looked back at me.

"All right then... Can I have my shit back then?" I asked, holding out my expectant hand.

Thankfully, the binoculars were as cheap as could be and weren't mine as the cop purposely dropped the binoculars, hitting the ground noisily. "Whoops." He said sarcastically.

Running out of nerve, I impulsively leaned over the bushes and alerted everyone that was on alert with a scream. "Five-oh! Five-oh!" Shortly followed by my announcement, I heard Manny peel out of the place.

Just as I began to yell it out, the cop roughly grabbed me by the left arm and subdued me like every cop does. Hand behind the back, except this guy just went the extra mile as he dragged and shoved me over to his unmarked car. Whether it was intentional or unintentional, he slammed me against the hood of his car and frisked me for any weapons. I knew this procedure all too well for it to be considered healthy. But every experience was different with the different cops. Some liked to be civil about it and ask you to do things kindly, while guys like this one forcefully slammed you and yanked at your arms like you were Harry Houdini. My face made a pancake against his car and I was sure that anymore press applied to my jaw would break it.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only one that witnessed this unneeded police brutality. Through the reflection of the hood, I saw a blonde Caucasian woman walking by with her dog glaring daggers at the detective. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"It's all right Miss. I'm a cop." The cop responded as I heard him retrieving his handcuffs.

"Since when do cops make it all right?" The blonde shot him another question, disgust evident in her voice.

"Yeah man! Since when do cops make everything just peachy?" I repeated through a garbled speech as my jaw was now apart of the hood. The cop applied more force to keep me quiet as he cuffed my subdued arm. "Ey, ey man!" With a scoff, I heard and watched the woman walk off with her dog. And so didn't my last hope. "Hey! Wait! Don't leave! He's gonna try and stick a plunger up my ass!" I screamed out as I felt the cop let me go slightly but to my fear, he handcuffed me to the grill of his car.

"Now be good and sit tight." He commanded sarcastically as he walked off to the building Taj was in, radioing in.

"Yeah! Let's see if you have this shit when you get back!" I yelled after him as I began to kick at his grill to try and detach it as he entered the building.

Taking my free hand, I used it to reset up the pieces properly. With haste, and silence, I warned Taj. "Taj! You have to get out of there, _now_! A cop is coming up now, and he just radioed in for help. Get out of there!"

"_Ahem... Excuse me, but do you know where I could find the bathroom?" _Taj used the cover up.

Without another thought, one of the men replied. _"Take a right down this hall and the room on the left at the very end. Door's right next to the fire escape."_

_Well, that's convenient._ I thought as I continued to kick and wriggle the grill off, already having half of it disconnected.

"_Thank you." _Taj said as sounded like he stood up and began walking.

There was a sound of the door shutting and then there was a silent but rushed running. _"Damn Brooke... Why didn't you let me know earlier?"_ He asked in panic.

"Sorry, but I was only getting yet another taste of police brutality out here! Manny high-tailed it outta here, so we're on our own." I told him as I heard another door, the fire escape door, open and shut.

"_Okay, we got what we need to know, so let's just get outta here." _Taj said as he rushed down the wire fire escape.

"Yeah, you better help me! I'm attached to this guy's grill! He handcuffed me to the grill!" I told him as I heard him running both through the piece and through my actually hearing down the alley toward me.

"_Wow, you lucky bastard. Just getting it from everyone, aren't you?" _Taj joked as he came into view.

Taking off the pieces and stuffing them in my pocket, I finally managed to rip the whole grill off and I figured we didn't have time to sever it just yet. Holding the grill in one hand, I indicated Taj's Porsche and we wasted no time in getting in, starting up, and quietly driving off so we didn't attract attention, or leave evidence behind.

"I always knew that you'd be attached to a car one day." Taj smirked as we made it back to "The Usual Spot".

"Oh shut up, you loser. My matchmaker wasn't that pretty either." I scowled as I sat back, grill in my lap.

"Aw, muffin." He said being sarcastically sympathetic.

"I swear that guy was about to stick a plunger up my ass if you hadn't given him something better to do!" I defended, shuddering at the thought.

"Wouldn't that be about the only bed action you'd be getting these days?" He teased me.

"Please boy... I've gotten more action in a year than you'll ever get in your entire life." I teased right back at him, relaxing back now.

"Maybe you could even it out for me." Taj wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh don't even go there, perv. I'm not getting on that subject with you." I scoffed, turning so I stared out the window now. "But you _are_ cute." I stared back over at him and smiled.

"That puts me well above anyone else in the group!" Taj let out a laugh as he continued to drive.

Sara's POV

The driving had turned even more pointless than it was to begin with. But it began to freak me out as I decided to pull over on the side of the road at the most convenient of places. Grissom's Townhouse.

For minutes on end, I thought of how I could end up here without knowing it or intending it. Staring at the empty and dark townhouse, I quickly checked the clock. 4:00 a.m. The sun would be coming up soon, and shift would be over at 7:00.

I considered waiting here until Grissom returned back, and confront him about everything. It was on my list of to-do things. But as I thought of it, for the past six years, it's been on the top of that list, yet I never bothered to. Or at least, I made failed attempts. That's what everything had been in my life as far as the romantic department went. Failed attempts or never attempted at all.

Between my high school years up to this present time, I was by no means, a desirable woman on any level, save for the intelligence. Usually if I got a date in high school, it was so the guy could con me into doing his homework or other school projects while he ran off with other girls. After their needs were fulfilled, they'd then dump me and continue on with their lives. Eventually, I came to accept the facts about who I was, even if it stung slightly like salt on a wound. Then, I stopped the dating scene all together, although I then befriended the feeling of jealousy and loneliness whenever I passed a couple in the hallway. Brooke had always tried to console me and told me that I didn't need them, but as the years went on, I found it more difficult to believe her. But those feelings soon abandoned me once I found work to bury myself in. Before I left my high school and moved onto college, I was a work drone.

While in college, it must've been the party atmosphere of the dorms. I had opened myself up and subjected myself to college dating. No one now used me to do their schoolwork, for everyone there was academically capable of doing it themselves and had the grades to prove it. No, now they just wanted to make their ex jealous. To make them jealous or to just have a one-night fling. I never tolerated the one-night flings and utterly refused against them, while when I learned that I was just a tool to make another person jealous, I dumped them before I got hurt. It was a repeat of high school, and I soon drove myself into solitude with my work my main priority. I attended every lecture from every guest speaker, never missing one. That included all five of Dr. Gilbert Grissom's lectures on Forensic Entomology. And as much as I buried myself in my notes and note taking, at every lecture of his, I couldn't help but get lost within his deep blue eyes and become mesmerized by his voice. In between those dazed moments, I managed to keep track of what he was saying, I had beyond three handfuls of questions, it got to a point where he told me to find him later to ask him my questions in private. It was taking up his entire lecture time. And that's when my association with Dr. Grissom soon became a "friendship" with Grissom. It was always more like a one-sided love to me, and seems to have remained true to this very day. Wasn't that the reason why I was sitting _outside_ his house instead of _inside_?

For the first time since the previous minutes before I arrived outside Grissom's house, I noticed the radio speaking through the sound system. 95.5 WBRE was one of my favorite R&B radio stations only because it was the same station we used to get back in Brooklyn. Compliments of Brooke, I soon was addicted to it and its Friday Night Slow Jams. It was a time where the lovesick people could call up and tell that person on the air that they love them, or whatever else they had to say. The shout-outs were never limited to anything however, where it ranged from lovesick notes to hatred and break up notes to the most bizarre notes to be heard ever.

So, as I listened to the shout-outs that had been left during the break, read off by the host, I paid special attention to the last one that also had a song requested for it as well.

"_This one goes out to a Sara Sidle..." _The host announced after clearing her voice. _"But it doesn't say from who. It says, 'Beauty is not in the face, but a light deep down. Beauty in my eyes for you will always be unconditional.' Phew... That's some heavy stuff... Well, this guy also wanted me to play this song, so Sara, hope you know who this guy is. Must Be Nice by Lyfe Jennings." _The host said as the song began to play.

"_Must be nice  
Having someone who understands the life you live  
Must be nice  
Having someone who's slow to take and quick to give  
Must be nice  
Having someone who sticks around when the rough times get thick  
someone who's smile is bright enough to make the projects feel like a mansion  
Must be nice  
Having someone who loves you despite your faults  
Must be nice  
Having someone who talks the talk but also walks the walk  
Must be nice  
Having someone who understands that a thug has feelings too  
Someone who loves you for sho'  
You just remember to never let 'em go." _I knew the song all too well, but the thought of it being Grissom just didn't add up right in my mind. For one, this song wasn't even in his genre of music. For two, this radio station isn't up his alley either. And for three, why would he be sending this song out to me when he's already got a girlfriend? If this was Grissom, which seemed like a slim to nothing chance, what was going on with him?

But just as I was about to convince the impossible, who else should park directly in front of the townhouse beside the owner? For a second, I sat there in a complete silence, holding a breath I didn't know I had as I watched him. He had his cellphone closed in one hand while he had his eyes closed in a deep concentration. I immediately turned down my stereo and strained to listen against the crickets that chirped in the early morning dusk. From Grissom's car, I was sure I heard the song continuing on from in there.

"_Must be nice  
Having someone you can come home to from a long day of work  
Must be nice  
Having someone you don't have to show they know exactly where it hurts  
Must be nice  
Having someone who trusts you despite what they've heard  
Someone as mighty as a lion but still as gentle as a bluebird." _The artist's voice sung out from Grissom's speakers now as I was sure mine were completely off.

Releasing his sigh, he turned off his car and sat back in his car for a few moments as he stared at his ceiling thoughtlessly. Or perhaps it wasn't so thoughtless as it appeared. I _wanted _to get out and run to him. But seriously, when hadn't I wanted to do that? Even when I was mad at him for whatever reason, that urge never left. I wanted to run to him and run into his life like I've been trying to do sneakily for the past six years. Was that ever too much to ask for? Too much for _me_ to ask for? Not that I was dwelling in self-pity, but just how much did I have to suffer through to get to the good? To something I actually wanted? Was thirty-some odd years not enough as it was?

A car door slammed and heavy footfalls were heard on the concrete. Looking up, I saw Grissom had already made his way back to his townhouse, never recognizing me or my presence. My hand latched onto the door handle without my personal consent, and as I watched him struggling with his keys, my hand wavered from opening it and opposing my heart's wishes. Was this really the time or place? Was there ever going to be a time or place? But just as he finally found the right key and opened the door, I deflated in my seat as he shut the door behind him. Shut out again, and he didn't even know he was doing it.

With all the pent up air being unconfined now, I let my hand slip lazily from the handle, my head drooped down to stare at the floor emptily now. Soon I regained a small bit of life, just barely enough to lift my hand up to put the car into Drive and drive away from the scene. The murder scene where just another small part of me had died, yet again.

_TBC_

A/N2: What did I tell you? Bi-polar! But I had to write it. I had to post it because I'm hooking myself up to a newer and better computer hopefully tomorrow and I didn't want to wait to post it. I will be very busy. But please, leave reviews and I will certainly be happy! Thanks in advance to those of you that do! You deserve a cookie, except I haven't quite figured out how I'd get them to you. Hmm... I'll find a way, I swear to it. But for now... You know what to do.

Peace out, one love,

MC New York


	10. Change of Plans

A/N: We have finally arrived at the ball... After nine chapters, we're finally here... But this is so far from over, so I hope you guys are in this for the long haul. At least another chapter will be taking place at this Ball, if not more. And if Lady Heather seems off character in any of these chapters Even if you are convinced that she's secretly like this, CHLOE, well, I'm blaming it on the loss of her daughter. Makes one crazy, am I not right? Well, she's gonna be crazy, and she's gonna be one viscious beast... Oh yeah, and slightly protective. But DAH WELL... Enjoy! ) Oh yeah, and once again, I can't express my love for the reviews I get from all of you! It means everything to me... I'm a raging review-lover-aholic... But you guys make it go away a little bit.

Disclaimer/Glares/ FINE! I own zip... I don't own the song, but I do own the revisions I made to the song, Gimme That by Chris Brown featuring Lil' Wayne. So, BACK OFF! It's MY revisions! You can't have any/Sticks tongue out/

Chapter 10: Change of Plans

Sara's POV

I gave a slight yawn as I opened up my door to my apartment. For once, I wished the sleep upon my slumping body, anything to escape the physical world. A blank dream was what I needed the most, but I wasn't entirely sure that would be happening if I fell asleep now.

Yet I found my feet carrying me past my breakfast island, tossing the keys on it as I went down the hall for my bedroom. I didn't bother to remove anything from my body; not my shoes, not my jacket or anything of the sort. I just kept walking until my knees hit the head of the bed, promptly falling down face first.

_Please just let this be a blank sleep._ I begged softly to the atmosphere.

"Well, that was one _graceful_ entrance." I heard a voice say from a corner of the room.

Bouncing up from my preceding position, I drew my issued gun impulsively and aimed it in the direction I heard the voice coming from in the bright room. Holding a breath for the both of us, I quickly let it go when I saw Brooke's hands up in the air with a smirk on her face.

Giving a half sigh and half scowl mixed together in a thick blend, I served it to my sister on a cold platter with my glare. "Brooke! How the Hell did you get into my house? I'm the fifth story off the ground and you don't have keys."

"You should consider holding a Board Meeting with the entire building about security. I slipped right through that faulty window of yours. Well, after I pretty much pulled a Tree Man up that tree next to your window." Brooke threw her thumb over her shoulder to indicate the window behind her. "But that window, it was supposed to be locked but it just slid right open. You're lucky I'm not some homicidal psycho with a vendetta against you."

"Yeah, I should count my blessings on that one." I said sarcastically, not truly feeling in the mood right now to joke around.

"So what's up with you Ms. PMS? Bad day at work?" Brooke said as she threw herself down on my bed next to me as I calmed down.

"I guess you could say that..." I mumbled as I dropped down next to her.

"Wanna talk 'bout it? I got time on my watch." Said Brooke, giving me her undivided attention.

Inhaling, I considered it but quickly denied it. "No... It's irrelevant."

"It's about that guy again, ain't it? What'd he do?" Brooke said immediately.

Quick to lie, I cut myself off this time and remained silent. "It's not what he did," I said I fell back on my back on the bed. "it's what I found myself doing." I deflated into my bed. "I didn't have a case tonight because my partner was just finishing up. So, I went to Grissom to see if I could assist him on his case. He appreciates help sometimes, y'know? But then he questioned me about the car you bought me and I ended up telling him your name. Then I asked him if I could help him with his case but he cut me off half a millisecond after I asked." I recollected his abruptness to the harmless question. "Then he left with telling me to take the night off for myself, to enjoy myself. I was driving around the city and then I ended up right in front of his house. Don't ask me how. It just happened. I was listening to WBRE on the radio and I heard a shout-out to me by an anonymous caller. Then they requested the song, Must Be Nice. You know, the one by Lyfe Jennings? That one."

"D'ya think it was him?" My sister asked me nonchalantly, trying not to put me in a depressed mood with a sympathetic voice.

"I'm not sure. Wouldn't be the first surprise I got from him that he knew songs from the R&B. Probably got it off of Warrick." I mused now that I thought of it. "It could've been though because just then, he pulled up to his house and parked. He seemed to either be concentrating or listening to something and he had his cellphone in his hand closed. I'm not sure anymore." I resolved it with a frustrated grunt as I slapped my hands over my eyes.

"Hmph, we _need_ to find the time to get our plan through! But _when_?" Brooke thought desperately.

"The Police Ball tomorrow." I mumbled as I thought out loud. Damn myself for making that a habit.

"YEAH!" Said Brooke excitedly as she turned to me and grabbed my wrists with her hands. "You genius! I knew you'd come up with a place!" Brooke took my hands off my eyes much to my displeasure. "Is that woman gonna be there too?"

"I think so." I groaned with despair on the inside of my own broadcast of something I could've chosen not to tell her.

"Great... Perfect. Now we just need to get you the dress to impress. After all, that's the key to the plan, isn't it?" The mischievous grin extended across her face as she noticed my discomfort.

"Maybe we should edit that part of the plan... It doesn't seem surefire." I said as I sat up now, too anxious to lay down.

"Stop that B.S. with low self-esteem in your appearance. It's not very becoming of you." Brooke said sarcastically, standing to go to my closet. Before I had a chance to speak, she was raiding my closet of possible clothes I could wear to the Ball.

It took a considerable amount of time, taking into account the fact that most of my wardrobe consisted of t-shirts and slacks, maybe the occasional jeans here and there, and my court clothes for those dreaded days. It was only at the very back of the closet that Brooke was able to recover a dress that I had long forgotten about. It was a simple bright red, strapless dress that ended up about mid-thigh and was sure to be stuck to my skin like a leech.

"Oo-lala! Where did this come from Ms. Sidle?" Brooke held it up to herself and twirled around mockingly to model it.

"No..." I said masking the horror I felt looking at it. "But no. Absolutely not. Brooklyn Maria Waters, if you make me wear that, you will regret it later."

"Oo, is that a _challenge_ from Ms. Sara Sidle?" Brooke taunted me as she placed it back in the closet.

"_Name it._" I dared her, standing up with my hands on my hips.

"Dancing or rapping... Future loser's choice." Brooke arched an eyebrow.

"Mirror Dancing." I said in a fiercely quiet voice.

"You're on. If you win, you can wear sophisticated work clothes. But if you lose, you _have_ to wear that dress." Brooke laid down the bet. "Oh yeah, and it's gotta be exactly to the song that _I_ choose. Step for step."

"Fine. What song?" I asked as we walked down the hallway to my stereo.

"Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah." Brooke stopped for a breath. "Or... Gimme That by Chris Brown."

Deliberating over my two options, and knowing that neither of the two dances were easy, I knew that Aaliyah was the ultimate dancer and could never be properly imitated. Not even by Brooke who has been dancing since she could walk. But choosing the second option in this game that Brooke and I had devised a long time ago, I knew came the added on job of having to sing/rap the song afterwards with revisions to it so it suited the loser's point of view. A chance to redeem themselves somewhat.

"Chris Brown." I said as I walked over to my radio and turned it on for a CD. "Are you still the kinda weirdo that walks around with cassettes and CDs in her pockets?" I asked when I turned to her.

"Of course!" She said while tossing me the new CD from the inside of her light jacket.

Putting it on the right track, I prepared myself for this. The rules were simple. Copy the moves of your opponent. But since Brooke said that it had to be the exact routine from the video, we had to copy that step for step. And if we messed up, it's a strike against us and they tallied up until the end. Person with the most strikes had to do the singing part. If they perfected it, converting it perfectly, then they won. But if they messed up even slightly then they lost.

To put it short, I lost with the smallest of parts. My left foot when inwards when it should've gone outwards in one of the steps. Apart from losing, I had to at least internally admit that Brooke would always be better than me at the dancing routine. Though at least I wasn't the old Sara Sidle anymore, who couldn't dance to save her life. Growing up in a colored neighborhood in my foster years, I learned a different style of living than most kids I knew after I moved out of there. This included how I danced, acted, walked, and talked. Never once did I regret it.

"Hah! Still can't be the master of the art!" Brooke proclaimed triumphantly, sweating just as much as I was. I guess I wouldn't be sleeping now... I was too energized now. "But I gotta admit, I did pretty good teaching you how to at least come close to my skills."

Her arrogant side never ceased to amaze me sometimes. "Sure Brooke. Sure. Let's just get this over with."

"And remember! Can't mess up!" Brooke fell back on the couch.

Starting the song over, while I waited for the intro to pass I thought to myself. "Hey, do I have to do the Lil' Wayne part?"

"Eh, as a reward for doing better than I thought you would, I'll do the Lil' Wayne part. I'll convert it too..." Brooke said with a heavy sigh as she got off the couch and leaned against the back of it. "Start it over."

"What it is folks?  
This right here is the 35-year-old phenom Sara Sidle!  
Me myself I'm the 30-year-old CEO... Who?  
Young Brooklyn, harder than them other girls,  
I ain't even frontin' baby I can take a summer off  
I take any man's dance off,  
I can shake the stomach off, one of my trucks now I'm ridin' in their grills  
Line it on up guaranteed you'll get served  
Lil' Sar ain't runnin' so I'm runnin' it to him  
I'm that Cash Money Youngin', Birdman Junior  
Just a female president lookin' for a male Monicer." Brooke finished off the intro and the first verse and then passed it onto me to finish.

"The young girl just turned 35 and I got  
64's and hot Lambos that I rock  
Keep three or four hunks on my watch,  
But all that confidence in that saunter just might convince her  
Slow all the traffic down to a complete stop,  
'Cause you speaking that slang that I talk  
That sassy tempo with that walk,  
Maybe the reason that all this other men may never see me." I struggled to make everything fit into my lifestyle. I would _not_ wear that dress.

"Boy you may be, fifteen-years-older, but you hot  
You be talking like you like what I got  
You know I like it how you lean in the 'lac,   
I could be in the back saying, gimme, gimme, gimme." I repeated the chorus twice, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks at the thought of my words.

"Boy take a break, let me explain to you,  
What ya body got a young girl ready to do  
If you take a chance to let me put them things on you,  
I could show you why I made them straight A's in school   
I'm a hustler, trust my frame and age  
Know you thinking that I'm just too young to turn your page  
I can picture, us switching lanes,  
In the coupe with me in the back screaming your name,

Gris!" I couldn't face Brooke for a second as I spoke the last lines to the next verse going back to the chorus. Gaining more confidence, knowing that it was only Brooke in the room, who knew exactly what I felt about my boss, I turned back to her. She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Listen baby, baby what it do, I'm tryin' to holla at ya  
I ain't upset but I'll blind you if I smile at you  
You rockin' wit young Sar and the best rapper,  
So leave ya phone, bring ya friends, let the rest happen  
A lil patron, lil Hen I'm on Pavody Vodka  
I'm in Carbony jeans, got on my secrets just to mock ya  
I'm fresher than a new born,  
And, umm, I'll let work me out like a futon  
And, umm, you can leave ya birthday suit on  
You leave your boots on, you leave ya jewels on,  
Never know what I want, you better leave that tool on,  
Never know who home, I learned that from a Biggie song  
Umm to a new-born, something like a red palm  
Oh I think he like me, he got me on his cellphone,  
And I told him, holla at ya girl, and don't ya stunt  
Now gimme that, some of that that, gushy stuff." Brooke still had no shame in what she spoke about, so diverse from myself.

I continued through with the chorus until the song ended, when I was glad it was over. Seeing as that had satisfied Brooke's competitive spirit, she declared that I'd won this time, but that I shouldn't let it go to my head.

"Brooke, you shouldn't be talking about things going to people's heads. You're head is pretty big from your ego to begin with, and with each passing day it doesn't get smaller." I teased, glad that I had at least had won to save myself from public embarrassment.

"What a shame. It probably would've attracted him even more, y'know? Oh well, guess we'll never know now." She gave me a shrug with her guilt trip. "Let's pick that outfit out, Miss Thang."

Brooke ended up throwing together brownish or tan slacks that weren't exactly work clothes but weren't court clothes either. Together with that was a white woman's tank top with a matching brownish or tan jacket. Overall, I wasn't ashamed when I observed in the mirror. It was still me but slightly different. Slipping on my court shoes however, as uncomfortable as they were, I figured I could manage if I stuffed the toes with tissue like I normally did so I wouldn't be in pain at the end of the day.

"Okay, well now that this is settled, I would like to get some sleep so I look rested for this thing tonight. You're welcome to stay on the couch unless you have other business to attend to." I said as I went into my bathroom to change into more comfortable clothes.

"All right... I guess so, I haven't gotten a call out yet, so I guess I could rest before I do." Brooke called to me from within my bedroom. "Hmm, but now that we've got you figured out for the Ball, what should _I_ do for my dress? I don't think I'll fit going in like this."

"Wait, you're coming too?" I said as I was amazed that Brooke, of all people, would want to be surrounded by a bunch of cops and criminal investigators for the whole night.

"Hell yeah! It's my plan! You think I'm not gonna come along to see how it plays out?" She asked one of those question that didn't need a response with a scoff.

"Keep it simple... Jeans and a t-shirt." I advised her as I walked out.

"Yeah, right... Like I got any jeans or shirts that would be 'suitable' for this Ball thing." She eyed her clothes now. "This is what my whole wardrobe is like."

"Oh, poor Brook-erella, doesn't have any clothes for the Ball." I said lightheartedly, folding up my clothes and setting them on the chair beside my faulty window. "Whatever shall she do?"

"Well, are you my Fairy Godmother?" Brooke asked to go along with it.

"No, so I'm sorry to say that you're on your own there little sister." I threw a glance back at her.

"Oh, the amount of help I'm getting here is so overwhelming, I'm about to explode." She replied in a flat, sardonic tone.

"I'm not cleaning it up though." I jokingly as I set up my bed for sleep.

"Guess I won't be staying then... But hey, do you want me to meet you there or do you want me to come get you? And what time is it... Wait." She took a thoughtful pause. "I don't know anything about this Ball. Maybe it's just better if I go with you."

"All right. Just be here by 7:00... We'll leave at about 7:30." I informed her, sitting back down on my bed.

"A'ight... I'll be here on time. Have a good sleep, sis!" She called as she exited my bedroom, closing the door.

Getting under the covers after shutting the blinds, I slowly let eyes droop close as I thought of what was to come tonight. I sent a silent wish to anyone that could hear me to let the plan work correctly.

Waking up abruptly around 6:00, I got up and took my shower, then put on the clothes for tonight. Applying an adequate amount of make-up to show my effort tonight, I debated with my reflection about what to do with my hair.

_Up or down? Partially wet or fully dry? Straight or naturally curly?_ My mind waged a war of its own just to decide.

Eventually, I just decided to leave it down and slightly curly, but fully dry. Just as soon as I was finished fussing with my disobedient hair, my buzzer rang loud enough to make me jump with a start. Power walking out of my bathroom and to the door, I swung it open to reveal a very mature appearing Brooke Waters, albeit an uncomfortable one.

Her roommate must've forced her to wear every single bit of the articles of clothes she was wearing, as well as the make-up, which just let me with my mouth open. Never once in my entire life had I seen Brooke in any form of make-up. Not even chapstick. Yet here she was now with blush, lipstick, eye shadow, and every other kind of make-up imaginable on; actually looking like a _lady_. And that wasn't even the start of it...

Notwithstanding the fact that this was a _Police_ Ball, and that Brooke looked like she was ready to go party down at one of the clubs, she still looked classy in what she wore. A pair of jeans that actually _fitted_ her and flared out at the bottom was what I noticed first. Next, she had shoes, not sneakers, on. And not just any shoes, but black high-heel shoes. A shocker all in its own. For a top, she had a plain white tank top, not muscle shirt, underneath a small army zipper-up, short-sleeve, hoodie sweatshirt where the hem stopped right at her ribcage. Her hair, still wet and slick, was brushed back into a French braid, a single spiraling strand of hair dangling freely from her bangs.

And though she had the appearance of an innocent woman now, her appearance change didn't change her attitude at all.

"One word... Just _one word_, Sara Sidle, and I will clear that expression from your face so fast you won't have an expression to make up for it." Brooke said huffily as she barged inside and sat down stubbornly on my couch.

"I wasn't gonna say anything! I think you actually look nice for a change! It's just strange to see you like this, dressed up and such. It's a nice change, though." I said, holding my hands up in defense.

"Meh... Okay, I'll admit, I do look different, but this is just for you. If it was _anyone_ _else_, I wouldn't go to this length." Brooke pointed at me accusingly. "You'd get what you'd get, like it or not, but I did this because you're my sister." She took a breath as she was about to relax, but then turned back to me on the couch. "I'd say the both of us are gonna clean up that place though. The plan's foolproof... You're gonna get him one way or another." Brooke promised.

"Well, let's just get there first. You ready?" I asked as I snatched my keys to go.

"Yup... Let's hit the road!" Brooke said energetically as she got up from the couch and went out the door. "Meet you down there."

Following her down after shutting off all the lights, I locked the door from the outside and swiftly followed her down the flights of stairs to ground level. We really needed to get that elevator working again. Only several paces behind her, we crossed the parking lot to get to my car. Silence ensued as I turned it on and drove off toward the designated place, Lake Mead's Party House.

I only realized the consequences of showing up in my newly bought car when it was too late. If Grissom had questioned me about it, everyone else would surely. That's when I pulled over to the side of the road about five-minutes from the club.

"What's up? Don't tell me you forgot something." Brooke questioned from the passenger seat.

"No... Switch spots with me. You drive the rest of the way." I instructed as I started to lift myself over the middle barrier into the passenger seat.

Getting bumped out of her seat, Brooke jumped out of the car and got in on the driver's side. "Now the explanation?"

"My boss questioned me about the car, and while I told _him_ the truth, I don't feel like going through all of tonight having people question me about where I got the money for such an expensive car. I don't need them thinking that I'm getting paid off or doing things I shouldn't be to earn extra cash to buy this." I briefed her as she pulled the car back on the road. "And _no_ speeding Brooke."

"Fun-sucker-outerer." Brooke said with a pout, but kept to the speed limit.

Pulling into the parking lot of the club, Brooke and I got out of the car simultaneously. Across the parking lot, just standing outside and chatting away, was Catherine, Greg, and Nick in one group while Warrick and Brass stood slightly out to the side talking privately. All talking between them came to a stop however, once Greg laid eyes on both Brooke and me. One-by-one, the other four of them turned their attention to us as we approached, the parking lot having a long stretch.

Our entrance would've been completely movie-styled if it hadn't been for two cars entering the parking lot and pulling in abruptly to two empty spaces side-by-side. And out came the two people that the others were probably betting wouldn't come at all, besides myself. Grissom and Lady Heather.

With everyone's attention, including Brooke and mine's as we stood in the middle of the parking lot. Grissom began to walk toward the entrance with Heather at his side, clad in a simple black dress. But that wasn't what caught my eye first... It was him...

I've seen Gil Grissom dressed up in many ways... I've seen him in his court clothes, I've seen him in his casual wear, and I've seen him in his work clothes. But this new style, a very gentleman-like look, was by far his Best In Show. I was helpless against his mesmerizing looks and hypnotizing walk. Dressed in a simple black and white three piece suit, I could tell it was at least a year or two old from the way that the sleeves of his jacket constricted around his muscles on his biceps. If I ever had any doubts about his body physique before, it was gone for good now. For his age, he was quite in shape.

And for a single moment in time, once his eyes set on mine, he stopped walking as we began our staring game we had at some points at the lab. Little did he know that I couldn't help but stare at him sometimes. And though they hardly even lasted very long, it was long enough for Lady Heather to notice the intense gaze between us, altering her vision from her date to me once or twice. She whispered something which made Grissom break the stare we had going and he cleared his throat and continued to walk on. I cursed at Lady Heather under my breath for cutting off my vision of his beautiful eyes.

Continuing to walk to rest of the distance, but at a slower pace than before, I witnessed as Grissom continued to amble up toward our group of friends while Lady Heather took a slight detour to Brooke and I. She stopped directly in front of our walking path and had a calm, but hidden fiery expression on her face now. I was on her radar now...

"I'm warning you... I don't care who you are, or what your plans are, but do not think of trying to advance any relationship between yourself and Gil. You had your chance, and now it's gone. So, move on..." Her speech was soft and calm for the most part, yet I found it to be the most intimidating tone yet.

And with that, she sauntered away to leave an internally stunned me, and an outwardly astonished Brooke, mouth hung wide open to land a plane in.

"Oh _no_ she didn't." Brooke said once she was out of earshot. "Uh, Sara? Remind me to come out before the party ends so I can make some... _revisions_ to that lady's car, will you? There's about to be a change of plans in our plan tonight..." Brooke said as she cracked her knuckles while she glared at Lady Heather's back.

Feeling a slight fire of a temper flare up inside of me at the woman's sudden attitude, I managed a mischievous smirk as I stared with Brooke. "All right. I can work with that..."

_TBC..._

A/N2: Okay, I just wanna make sure of one thing... I'm going to be very involved with music in this fic... It won't be every chapter, but especially while I'm in any kinda club or this Ball, music and lyrics will be involved... Just thought I'd let you know in advance... Now do you're part in this strange little relationship of Author/Reviewer, and I'll keep up my end of the bargain. Deal? Cool... But now I gotta bounce... Later!

Peace out, one love,

MC New York


	11. Bring It On

A/N: Woah, woah, woah... This is... Woah. I can't begin to express how sorry I am for taking so long. You wouldn't believe the story even if I told you and showed the pictures. But hey, better late than never, right? Right? Please don't throw tomatoes at me, I rot in the acid! Please say I still got some reviewers though. Please please please. I promise I won't go so slow anymore. I promise on everything I love dearly. Please? Well, here's a long chapter for you guys.

Disclaimer: >O!

Chapter 11: Bring It On!

Brooke's POV:

Fuming from the previous encounter, I watched with raging eyes as the pale woman walked inside with her date for the evening. 

Heh... Like it's gonna stay that way. Not if I can help it.

Eventually, Sara got me to move on and I maintained my temper as we approached her group of assembled friends. My body may have been under control, but that hardly meant that my mind wasn't wandering to the many ways in which I could get the woman back. Not to hurt her. No... She's not worth the jail time. To humiliate or piss her off would satisfy me all the same.

Besides, it's guaranteed that she'll eventually do something to really piss me off enough to hurt her.

"What was that about?" A cool and deep voice asked once we stopped walking, unknown to me.

"I'm not too sure. Warning me about something, but she was mumbling the entire time. Didn't catch it." Sara responded with a shrug. "Anyways, guys... I'd like you to meet a very good friend of mine. Brooke. Brooke, these are my colleagues and good friends as of six years ago. Greg Sanders..." She indicated a rather lanky and slightly pale guy that definitely looked out of place in a suit. He appeared to be more of a T-shirt and jeans kind of guy instead. "Warrick Brown..." Her hand flew in the direction of an impossibly tall, dark skinned man with the most electric green eyes I'd even seen. "Nick Stokes..." Beside the man known as Warrick was his companion, a slightly shorter and lighter skinned man with a warm smile on his face as he waved a hello to me. "Catherine Willows, who you already met..." The familiar blonde head nodded in acknowledgment of my presence. "And Jim Brass, our resident homicide detective." The remaining man, who had his back to me the entire time, now turned. And when he did, my eyes grew to the size of the moon and the first instinct to run for the hills was strong enough that the only thing keeping me in place was the shoes I was wearing. I didn't feel like breaking my ankle tonight.

He was the same cop that handcuffed me to his car's grill. And from the shocked look on the old man's face, he hadn't forgotten about his car's missing parts.

As they all mumbled their polite "Hellos", with the exception of the homicide detective who still stood there – now in a smugness that disgusted me to the bone because of the fact that he saw my discomfort – I discreetly grabbed for Sara's wrist, pulling her along. The less time I spent around that particular cop, the better off I was.

"Phew, can you feel that breeze? It is freezing out here. You feel that Sara? Let's go inside. I gotta use the bathroom anyways." Excuse after excuse came out of my mouth as I continued to drag a very confused Sara Sidle into the building, away from her group of friends.

Not a single word came out of her mouth, or at least, that I paid attention to until she clenched onto my biceps with an intensity that forced me to pay attention. Biting back a swear, I looked from her hands to her questioning face.

"What are you doing? There wasn't a breeze to be felt, and I trust that you're old enough now to go to the bathroom by yourself." Sara sarcastically remarked as we stood just barely to the inside of the entrance's threshold. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I quickly said as I tried to recompose. "I just thought you'd wanna get a jump on the plan. I mean, you're friends are gonna be around all night, right? Your boss doesn't seem to be the type to go to these things too often, from what you've told me. So what makes you think he's gonna stay around for long?" _Nice! Go Brooke, go Brooke._

Apparently that excuse worked on Sara in a second, as she slightly relinquished my throbbing arms from her firm hold. Whether she knew it or not, Sara had a tight grip when it was called for. Not that this was called for, but that didn't change the fact that I most likely had two bright red imprints of Sara's hands on my biceps.

_Good thing I don't have a boyfriend to speak about... I would have some serious explaining to do about why someone else's hand prints were on my arms instead of his. _I thought with a silent chuckle to myself.

"I suppose you're right. Sorry about that. You just kept on rambling on about the weather and the bathroom the entire way." Sara apologized with a laugh of her own. "Had to get you quiet somehow."

"Apologize accepted, Miss Hulk. Damn that hurt." I rubbed my arms with my face scrunched up at the waning pain that was at a dull ache at the moment. "C'mon, let's scope out the club from the bar. _Please_ tell me they have a bar up in here." I asked mock-desperately as we began our walk there, myself clinging to her arm desperately for a moment before pulling back with a silly grin on my face.

As time wore on, the more people that arrived. And they just weren't any ordinary people. No. They were cops. As was to be expected, but the actuality of the situation had me sitting nervously in my stool at the bar. Soon enough, I was completely surrounded.

I had thought I could handle it. Sure, my complications with the law went above and beyond getting in several or more altercations with them in the past, but I thought I could brave it out and stick in there for Sara. There was only one part of my past that Sara didn't know about, therefore, she didn't notice my discomfort as we created a conversation of small talk for the most part. Sara, I could be comfortable around. She was my family and someone I would trust with my life, and the fact that she was in law enforcement didn't seem to affect me. But all of these other people did.

And despite what I _thought_ I had a handle on, I soon learned I didn't when a cop, dressed up in his suit and obviously carrying a slight buzz, tripped into my lap and waggled his eyebrows at me mischievously. Getting up and shoving the man off of me without creating too much of a scene, I advised Sara to loosen up with a drink as I went off to find the lady's room.

_As if the bathroom's gonna help the paranoia._ I said internally to myself as I gave it a passing glance as I continued to shove through the thickening crowd of cops to get to the expansive balcony.

With every passing step, my pace quickened as I could literally feel my throat tighten with the upcoming panic attack I was trying to avoid. After the paranoia set snuggly into my system, the claustrophobia followed it's predicable course and attacked me next.

_I SAID SHUT UP DOWN THERE! _

_Do I have to go and get the gasoline and matches again?_

_That's it! Now I won't even send down that chicken bone from last night's supper. How you like that one!_

_Just do as you're told and you'll get hurt less. Now lift up your shirt._

_I am an officer of the law, and if you don't do what I say, I'll have you locked up in a worse place than here. Now DO WHAT I SAY!_

His voice assaulted my ears, but I knew this time that I was the only one to hear him. That's part of the reason why I was in psychotherapy several years ago – when I told my therapist about the voice that came in my head whenever I was surrounded around numerous cops. It was almost inevitable for the voices to turn up... Even years after, I suffer from the trauma, or all of these head doctors keep telling me. They would be too if the one person they were suppose to depend on for love and caring turned on them like that.

But the incessant commands coming from the voice I dreaded to hear didn't stop. It built up the momentum inside of me until I finally reached the two French doors that led outside, shoving through them carelessly. Flinging them back until they crashed with a startling clash against the side of the building before swinging back into place from the amount of force. I didn't stop walking until my ribs came into contact with the balcony's thick marble railing, making me bend over with my head in my hands as my arms propped themselves upon the railing for support.

Running my hands over my hair and over my face countless times before stopping, I realized it was a subconscious act that I did every time this happened. It was as if I was trying to rub away the small – yet significant – part of him that I couldn't seem to erase fully.

A cool breeze from the lake swept over my sweating form and seemed to take a part of my problems away with it. The anxiety that had risen only a second ago, now found it's way back down as I sucked in a calming breath.

_Breath deep. Breath out. Breath deep. Breath out. _I continued the mantra in my mind over and over again until I began to speak it out loud. "Breath deep. Breath out. Breath deep. Breath out."

The dreaded panic attack was now out of sight and out of mind after several minutes of me self-directing myself through the simple steps, albeit the claustrophobia still left the uneasy feeling behind in its wake for me to cherish. Even after the attack was gone, I continued to breath deep, inhaling the smell of the water from the lake that was a couple yards away from me and glistening in the moonlight.

To an outside observer, I truly must've appeared to have more than a few screws loose in my head, and that was a hopeful saying. I'd always considered my head to have _no_ screws to bind it together. But I didn't dare to look behind and count how many pairs of eyes were staring at me with unasked questions hidden behind them this time.

I always know that they're there. There's never been a time when this has happened and there's never been less than a pair of eyes staring at me in puzzlement. All of my psychiatrists keep telling me that I'm not the only person out there that's suffered what I'd suffered. But I've given up on that thought.

After all, I haven't seen any support groups for the children who've lived with cop for a parent and were abused as severely and uniquely as I was around.

Sara's POV:

It was safe to say that Brooke wasn't going for the bathroom. I came to this recognition as soon as I saw her give the bathroom a quick glance and then pass it by. And it wasn't like you could've missed it. The signed for the Men's Room and the Lady's Room was designed in a eye catching bright pink neon sign above the doors. A blind man could've found it way in without any difficulties.

_No need to lie, Brooke. _I thought to myself as I ordered a plain water. _As tempting as it is, I won't give in to alcohol just yet. It's best if I stay alert for at least a half an hour._

A loud crash almost sent my water into Greg's face from my startle, but thankfully for the both of us, it didn't. Looking around for the source of the noise, I quickly gave up the effort momentarily when Greg took a seat next to me.

"What was that?" I questioned him, going back to my search for the noise.

"No idea. Must not be too life-threatening though if people aren't running." Greg said playfully as he leaned against the bar. "So, what's the deal with that friend of yours? Is she single or what?"

"Sorry Greg, but I don't think you're her type." I tried to conceal my smirk as I took a sip of the water.

"How do you know? I'm adaptable!" Greg exclaimed as he ordered a water for himself.

"I don't believe you're _that_ adaptable. Brooke's a little more than you could handle, trust me on that one." I said as I took a quick glance at the anxious lab rat turned CSI. Oh how he's grown.

"Oh, I get it. It's just because I'm white, isn't it? You think I can't handle a little dark meat, huh?" Greg said as he twirled around in his stool like an ADD child. "Well, I'll have you know, Sara... I've handled all types of races."

Letting out a small hum in mock-contemplation for a moment or two, I shortly after shook my head no. "You still have no chance, Greg, even _with _my help." With another sip, I quickly changed the subject. "So, you look very nice tonight. I haven't seen you dressed this nice since..." After a moment, I realized the answer to the question I'd thrown in the air. "Never."

"Yes, well... I dress to impress." Greg said as he tugged on the collar of his white suit that would've been identical to Grissom, had it not been the color it was. "So can you believe that Griss actually showed up with Lady Heather? I was _not_ expecting her to be attached to his arm when they arrived."

Just at the very mention of the woman's name, I winced. "Yeah, it was a shocker."

"How do..." Greg began to question, but was at a loss of words when a red-headed woman passed by, giving him a "friendly" wave and a smile.

Looking up from my drink, I noticed Greg's eyes sticking in the direction the woman had left in, mouth open with the words he was about to speak stuck inside. Rolling my eyes with an inward laugh, I took another sip of my water and patted him on the shoulder.

"I won't keep you Greggo." I said as I turned back to the bar.

"Thanks Sara. I knew you'd understand." Greg said absentmindedly as he removed himself to pursue his target.

For the next half an hour, I learned that the music came in all different styles. It seemed to satisfy everyone with the variations in the genres, from R&B to oldies to punk to rock. At one point or another, everyone recognized a song that was played. And I stayed rooted to my stool at the bar, making casual conversation with the barkeep that seemed to be my biggest companion at the moment. Catherine had gone off and relived her clubbing days, dancing with anyone that had legs. Warrick, to no one's surprise was discreetly – or what he thought was discreet – checking out Catherine as she freshened up on her dancing while Nick was trying to associate himself with a blonde woman that had just finished up being Catherine's dance partner. Greg was beyond association with the red-head that'd passed us earlier in one of the corners of the room, talking in private. But the biggest relief was to see Grissom, by himself, sitting at a lone table on the edge of the expansive dance floor, fiddling with his shot of scotch. And while I was somewhat rejoiced that Grissom wasn't with Heather, it led me to wonder what Lady Heather _was_ doing. This certainly wasn't a place where I would figure she'd be most at ease, so I could only wonder who she was mingling with.

"Scotch on the rocks, please." A gruff voice ordered from the far left to me.

Glancing down in the direction of the voice. It appeared that I had found the final member of my close departmental friends. Jim Brass.

To say the least, he was wishing for a 419 anywhere at this point in time. I could just feel it. I suppressed a smirk as I turned back to my drink, finishing off the second glass of water. Another thing I could read off of the detective as well, he just wanted alone time with his scotch. Quality, bonding time, and it would be far from my place to step in and disrupt that time of his.

As another dance-able R&B song came on, I turned in my seat to see what people actually tried to dance just for a laugh. It was beyond amusing to watch some of the younger cops get out on the dance floor and try to dance like they came out of an Usher music video only to come to their senses that they truly had little to no coordination to pull it off. I was surprised and slightly worried that Brooke hadn't gone out on the dance floor yet.

Now that I began to think about it, I hadn't seen Brooke since she left to "find and use the bathroom". I knew from the beginning that was a complete lie, but this just added the evidence onto the crime. And with Brooke missing and Lady Heather no where in sight, I began to worry. The more I worried, the more it began a very big possibility that Brooke had taken care of Heather in her own... unique, way.

_Not possible._ My mind bickered back. _You would've heard something._

_Not always. Brooke is deadly and quick about it whenever the occasion arises. _I thought as I searched for my sister with my eyes.

_Do you truly believe your sister is capable of murder?_ My conscience questioned.

_Absolutely._

_Around a whole dance hall full of people on law enforcement, though?_ My conscience fought for my sister's innocence.

I couldn't seem to argue against that. Brooke was impulsive, but hopefully not that impulsive. Absolute wishful thinking is that Brooke would never truly live up to that killer side of herself that I knew existed without a doubt, but another part of my wishful thinking would be that she'd have common sense not to do anything stupid like that around the people that would arrest her for it.

I couldn't deny it. I knew Brooke had every capability to kill someone and would have the willpower to do so under a certain degree of pressure, yet the law enforcement side of me begged to anyone that she never would. Or never has. Because then that would mean I would be associating with a murderer.

I shoved the idea out of my head immediately. It was one of the subjects I simply didn't want to dwell on, or even allow it to cross my thoughts. I didn't want to contemplate the probability that my sister could be a murderer. And sitting here, where my thoughts would sit beside me was not the place I needed to be.

Pushing my glass away from me, I stood up, forced to stretch from my prolonged sitting. I turned to the barkeep, Marc, and gave him a grateful smile as he turn the glass I'd just pushed forward.

"Finally getting out to enjoy yourself?" He asked with a smirk of his own on.

"Yes. Thank you for the company, Marc." I expressed my sincere gratitude through another smile.

Turning back now, I was about to start my trek when I heard a wave of cheers in excitement resonate from the center of the dance floor. Then as a single mass, everyone moved away from the center. Having a height advantage on most in the crowd, I was able to see that a ring had formed in the center of the room, holding only one person in the middle to soak up all of the attention.

Brooke. If anyone could make someone clear out that fast on a dance floor, it had to be Brooke.

Pushing toward the middle with a medium amount of difficulty. But it wasn't enough to make me turn back now. I let out an over amused laugh, however, when my eyes landed on two people instead of just one. But when I realized who the other person was, my mouth fell open wider than Greg's did earlier.

Lady Heather.

_Well, at least she's not off killing her._

Then I noticed it. The "in your face" and wild dancing that she was doing. And finally, the song entered my conscious state of mind.

_UH OH! The fight is out..._  
_I'ma 'bout to punch yo...lights out  
Get the FUCK back, guard ya grill  
There's somethin' wrong, we can't stay still  
I've been drankin' and bustin' two  
And I been thinkin' of bustin' you  
Upside ya motherfuckin' forehead_

Brooke may not have been committing homicide on her, but she was certainly implying her complete... distaste for the woman in question. Lady Heather didn't even have to reciprocate the action to see that she wasn't exactly thrilled at the fact that she was within a close proximity of my sister, however. To everyone around us, it was just dancing to them for they didn't know how Brooke challenged people. Getting in their faces and putting on a wilder form of street dancing was just a level of her challenging. This was the form of dancing I could never copy and look nearly as professional as she did. I'd most likely just look like an angry white girl that was having involuntary muscle spasms.

I wasn't sure what Lady Heather's reactions would be if Brooke continued this form of challenging, so I took it upon myself to intervene anyway I could. I knew that Brooke was waiting for Heather to snap so she could truly demonstrate her dislike for her, but I couldn't let that happen. I had to draw the boundary somewhere.

_Don't say I never did anything for you._ I said silently to Lady Heather as I entered the ring.

Going up being Brooke, I did the one thing I just said I'd never do just a second ago. I temporarily mimicked her maniacal form of dancing after tapping her on the shoulder. I didn't quite know where the moves came from, but I could only hope I didn't make too big of a fool of myself doing them in the center of it all.

If I had to describe the dancing in one sentence, it would be that I was almost instigating a fight with my body language upon Brooke with her mirroring the idea back to me. Of course, between the two of us, it wasn't serious – just a dance – but that's what it appeared like. She beat me in comparison by a long mile, but I couldn't have been doing too bad myself for the crowd was cheering myself on as well.

Her movements were fast paced and jaunty – snapping back at a second's notice. Several of her moves I was actually able to do for myself. But I had to hand it to Brooke. She _owned_ the dance floor with her unique moves and style. It plastered a permanent smile on my face as she showed off and flaunted it like no other. Even as she approached me, plucked my shirt up between her index finger and thumb and scoffed at me with a mock-disgusted face. Pulling back, Brooke reached around to the hood of her sweater, lifting it up to appear like she was hanging herself – gradually lifting herself off the ground on the tips of her toes. She continued to pull upwards until she couldn't lift herself any higher without her feet leaving the ground before popping her hood and jumping up in the air, throwing her arms out in one fluid movement – ridgedly yanking back her arms before her feet touched the floor again. The message was, in her own language, "Compared to you, I'm fresh to death."

By the time the song had ended, Brooke had lost the provoking side of her to a more cheerful side of herself and Lady Heather had long since disappeared from the scene.

"And here I was thinking I was the only one who could dance like that." Brooke remarked, slightly out of breath and perspiring. "Guess I'll have to move onto the next style, huh?"

"All right ladies and gentlemen, this is the first slow song of the night. So grab your partners and remember this... It's not your 8th grade dance here, so get original with the dances. Not just that swaying back and forth stuff." A low chuckle accompanied the baritone voice of our hired DJ: DJ Tron. "It's kind of a flash back for the 80s R&B children here in their clubbing days and for fans of the early 90s R&B. I Wanna Know by Joe."

Just as I was about to join the growing number of people exiting the dance floor, Brooke ensured that I did anything but such things. At the sound of the beat, Brooke tookthe small of my backin one hand and my right hand in the other as she led me into an overly-energetic waltz, tearing across the floor on a straight path to the balcony.

Brooke only tossed me outwards only to reel me back in once before I held her there as she was about to wind me out again. "Brooke, what are you doing?" I whispered.

"Helping you."

I couldn't fit another word in as she completed the waltz with the second out throw, only to restart from there. One, up up, two, up up, three, up up, four, up up. Out, slide, slide, slide, out, in, out, in, and start from the top all over again. To my utter surprise, Brooke knew the steps well even if she was being hasty about her steps. Her behavior didn't make much sense until the reason came into view.

Grissom.

Trying my best to take the lead now, I pulled her in the opposite direction only to be rewarded with Brooke purposely stomping on my feet before yanking me back in the general direction of Grissom. In a state of sharp pain, I bit back a long line of curse words and went along with her for a moment longer – knowing she would step on my feet again if I didn't.

"Whatever you think you're going to do, don't think about it." I casted a glance over my shoulder at the solitary Gil Grissom.

"You'll thank me later Sizzle. Average humans live to their 80s and you're already in your 30s. You've got half a century to go and there's not much waiting for you in the last 10 or 20 years of your life... Unless you've got a good retirement plan going for you." My eyebrows creased at the thought and the fact that Brooke was already calculating the rest of my life and death as well. "Trust me, you'll be praising me like God after this."

The time it took for Brooke to lead us over to the oblivious entomologist was as quick as a blink of an eye and as nerve racking as being a parent to a missing child. I prayed for amnesia to strike Brooke so whatever plan she was concocting in her head would vanish without a trace. At the very least, I hoped someone would inject her with truth serum so she would at least _tell_ me what she was plotting. It was a surefire fact that if I asked, Brooke would reply saying to wait for the surprise. And surprises of Brooke's were never to be deemed good when it involved match making. Past horrors taught me that.

But there was no such luck with either the amnesia or the truth serum. _Now I wish I was one with amnesia._ Were my only thoughts as Brooke tossed me out and let go of my hand.

With the built up momentum and the given fact that Brooke had been dragging me more than dancing with me, I feel backwards and directly into the lap of a very startled Grissom. Brooke simply continued dancing the same steps – but now by herself – on her way to the bar, looking like a fool. But not as big of a one as I felt. Not nearly. Not even with that goofy grin on her face.

Shooting straight to my feet, I fixed my wrinkled clothes to conceal the slight blush that rose to my cheeks. _That wasn't going to work Brooke. Maybe with the Grissom I knew when I first came out here, but not now._ I thought with agitation as I sensed Grissom getting up from his seat.

The music continued to fill the otherwise silent air around us. I wanted to apologize but where I normally over-talk when I'm nervous around him, I was grateful when he spoke up first.

"Seems like you've lost your partner to herself." Grissom joked as we both turned in time to witness Brooke sliding with herself happily. "Do you... uh... need another one?"

Looking up now, I realized he was actually asking me to dance. Sending an inward word of thanks to Brooke like she said I would, I took his offered hand and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor.

"I hope you know how to waltz." I remarked as his hands dropped into position like it was natural for him.

"Just don't go as fast as she did. I'm not that good."

**TBC**

A/N2: All right, confession time? This is quite literally my first attempt at a WIP GSR. Despite my fanaticism with the ship, I never had too much confidence to write it, so I felt like this chapter was crap. Please tell me if I'm doing well with the GSR. And if I'm not, give me some pointers. I'm suffering to know how well I write GSR and I wanna know if it's making you guys suffer just to read it. So do yourself and me a favor by reviewing and telling me. And as for the past reviewers thank you so damn much. It means so much to me. Much love to all y'all. Oh yeah, and those directed steps for the waltz? Yeah, that's not a real step - just something I made up. Okay, not _I_ but it was something that I was taught to be the waltz. So don't get all technical on me for the waltz steps. Hmm... I wonder if any of you even noticed before I mentioned it. Damn, well I just ruined my image.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	12. Dude

A/N: Damn... When I posted, I came back the next morning and saw nine reviewers just sitting there like WHA-BAM! I hadn't even gotten to read them and I was already up the walls. And it was even worse when I actually read them. Hmm... If that's the reaction I get for posting after a long wait, maybe I should do it more often... /Mischievous smile/

Disclaimer: Hmph. Rawr.

* * *

Chapter 12: Dude

* * *

Brooke's POV:

As I checked over my shoulder, I saw Grissom leading my sister out to the dance floor and begin to waltz, but at a much slower pace than I had set for her originally. Another step closer to breaking off his relationship with that "demon from the deep" I now knew formally as Heather. After our first true encounter on the dance floor, it was more than apparent that neither of us would have a taste for each other. That doesn't go to say that I didn't provoke her into pissing me off to some degree, but still.

* * *

_Flashback_

"Phew, damn is he fine, huh?" I questioned the leather clad woman beside me.

"Listen, I don't know you or your friend over there," She threw a nod in the general direction of Sara. "but you both had better stay away from Gil's and mine relationship."

"Oh, is that a **threat**, Miss **Thang**?Because... I'm not the kinda person to step down to threats." I informed the woman who seemed to be wearing a blank mask, showing no emotion, while getting less than two feet in front of the woman in a threatening fashion.

**Hmm... Maybe if I distract her by making her think that I'm the one after her boyfriend instead of Sara, maybe then I could slip Sara in with less difficulty. **I problem solved in my head, already formulating a master plan in my head.

"And I'm not the kind of person to submit to intimidation." She spoke back in an even voice that pissed me off just listening to it. "So you can relay this message to your friend and keep it in mind for yourself for future reference. Gil is mine and he loves me. Not either of you. So please don't bother with it, because it truly will be futile." Still, not a single flash of emotion reached her face, except for her eyes, where a dangerous flash of anger showed for a moment or two before dying down again.

And just as I took another step to get further into the woman's personal space, the familiar whistling beginning blared through the hall, signifying the song I'd requested had started. Move Bitch by Ludacris. And as they say, music moves people. It was only a matter of moments until I had turned so my back faced her, back flipped and used her shoulders to vault behind her to complete the flip. After that, it was safe to say I let the music influence my moves with what I knew as Crunk Dancing.

But at one point, I felt a tap and turned around to see one of the last people try and compete with me for dancing in this style. Sara...

_End of Flashback

* * *

_

And thought I'd never tell her, she did pretty damn good even thought she did seem like a psychotic white girl without her meds. But hey! That's what Crunk is about – letting go and being free with your dance moves.

Now, it was safe to say that I had Heather's eye mainly on me now since I "posed a threat" as some would put it. It's all going according to plan.

Sitting down at the bar, I paid little to no attention to anyone around me. I didn't particularly care at this moment because I was just regarding everyone as people. I didn't want to think of them as cops, lest another panic attack fall onto my shoulders. Besides, who actually sees cops trying to dance besides on Reno 911? Precisely.

That's why I hadn't realized that I'd seated myself next to a trap.

Looking beside me, I noticed the balding detective staring deep into his scotch as if it held the answers to the world. He seemed oblivious to my presence. And however stupid it was on my part, the shock of the sight made me jump and curse instead of getting out of my seat quietly and moving away. And as I tried to spin out of my seat and make my get away, the detective's hand flew out to grasp my shirt and pull me back into my seat with the same force he'd used to handcuff me to his grill. My heart thumped at an unhealthily rapid rate as he drew me close to him so he could talk to me without the people surrounding us to hear.

"Don't create a scene for yourself and I won't either." He whispered to me as he slowly let go of my shirt when he knew I was planted to my seat – out of the panic that was seizing me again.

As he returned to my seat, I sat uncomfortably in my seat next to him, unsure of why he would want me to remain seated next him. "You know, if this is about your grill... Man, I can get you it back. It's right in my basement. I'll even put it back on for free, man." I began to ramble out to the man due to my nervousness and desperateness to get out of this situation.

"That's not my original thought, but thank you. Now that you've mentioned it, I have been getting strange looks from people about part of my car missing." A sarcastic tone came from the man as he took a sip of his scotch. "But I'm mainly concerned about Sara. Whatever it is that you're into, you better not drag Sara down with you."

Realizing the genuine concern this man had for my sister, I began to loosen up knowing that this was someone that cared for Sara almost as much as I did. "Trust me, there's nothing I'm involved in that would hurt Sara professionally. And even if I was, I wouldn't dream of doing it. I've known Sara for a very long time and have looked out for her like my flesh and blood. Getting her involved with something that would hurt her is the last thing on my agenda." I responded, speaking the truth without revealing anything.

_What I'm doing is legit, somewhat._ I said to myself.

Staring over just in time, I saw the man give me a very skeptical look. A look of distrust.

"Have I given you anything to suggest that I might want to hurt Sara in anyway?" I questioned him then.

"Not directly." He replied, the look of distrust never leaving his eyes.

"Have you found anything criminal against me?" I raised another answer.

"I haven't done a background check on you yet, so I can't tell you." The detective – who I believed was named Jim Brass – continued to reply.

"Well, you do that. Name: Brooklyn Marie Waters. I'm clean on my record." I was now thankful for the deal that I'd struck months ago now as I offered him to do a background check on me.

A silent moment passed between Jim and myself before he surprised me with a pat on the back. Laughing nervously for the sake of trying to loosen up, I suddenly began to feel better and much more like myself as he gave a deep laugh of his own.

"All right. Since I didn't even find anything in that building you were peeking in, I suppose you're fine in my book." _What! How did those guys cover up that good for him not to even find anything against them! _Was all I could think as he said that. "I was just seeing what your reaction would be. It's an interrogation tactic. Pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely professional." I added a laugh to cover up the nervousness I'd felt for thinking he'd figured out the part of me I couldn't afford anyone to know. The secret me.

"Well, hey... It _is_ my job." He said proudly. "So, are you old enough to drink yet?" He questioned with a lasting glance at me.

"Hmph... I'm old enough to do more things than you've ever dreamed of." I replied wittily as I sat back and allowed him to buy me the Hennessey that I asked for.

_A'ight... So they're not all bad._ I decided as I sipped my drink and casually talked to Jim as if we'd been the best of friend since the twelfth of never.

* * *

Sara's POV:

As the song gradually came to a close, Grissom and I pulled back simultaneously to give each other a satisfactory nod and glance at a job well done on the dance. I looked around as the rest of the dancing couples broke apart and went back to their respective seats or continued to stand on the floor, awaiting the next song to play. That's why I had to catch up to Grissom as he went back to his lonesome chair near the balcony door.

Taking a silent seat beside him, I finally recognized the awkwardness in this entire situation. And as if the tenseness couldn't be added on like peanut butter to a sandwich, the DJ had to acknowledge us over the microphone.

"Great job out there, y'all. Especially you two over there with that waltzing!" Just then, a large spotlight concentrated on Grissom and myself, questioning eyes staring at the both of us from the floor and the other seats. "That's what I'm talking about guys! But now we're back to the regular dancing."

Awkwardness became my worse enemy right then and there.

"You dance well to the waltz." Grissom complimented as he broke the silence for the first time in five minutes of silence, already gone through one of the songs played.

"You surprised me too. Who taught you to dance like that?" I figured the only way to beat the awkwardness was to post out questions.

"My Mother and close friend of my Mother." Grissom replied with a small smirk gracing his face. "It took a lot of effort just to initially agree to the amateur lessons, and even more of an effort to get me to actually dance properly. It literally took a month of practice just to get one of the easiest waltzes perfectly, and they had me practicing daily." He shook his head in amusement, as I did the same.

"I bet you weren't too happy with that. Cut into your time with your bugs, right?" I joked, thinking of the intense obsession a young Gil Grissom must've had with insects and entomology.

"You're right actually. But I think that my Mother and her friend actually thought I'd go to my high school prom when I was older." Said Grissom with a small chuckle.

"Well, I have that woman over there to thank for even being able to dance to begin with." I said as I indicated a now dancing Brooke out dancing Catherine.

"I take it you've known her for a while." Grissom stated as a matter-of-factly.

"For a _very_ long time." I stressed.

For a moment, I saw Brooke stare over at us nonchalantly – as if she didn't even notice us – and then double looked as her movements halted completely. She'd seen us – the both of us – glancing at her and now she would feel the need to investigate. Just great.

"A'ight, who talking 'bout me? Whatever I did, I didn't do it!" Brooke jumped over the back of the seat next to me to sit in it, shoving her hands up defensively.

"Grissom, this is my best friend, Brooke Waters." I introduced, knowing he would recognize the name almost instantly. "Brooke, this is my boss, Gil Grissom. Most people call him Grissom or Griss though."

There was a moment of silence as Grissom seemed shocked at the name and face of my sister, but it went by so quickly that I thought I'd imagined it. "I take it then, that you're the friend that paid for Sara's new car." Grissom stated upon shaking Brooke's hand.

"One and only Brooklyn Waters. I had cash to spare and Sizzle was in a jam." Brooke said with one of her shrugs.

With raised eyebrows, he looked from Brooke to me several times. "You refer to Sara as 'Sizzle'?"

"Yeah!" Brooke drew out the word with emphasis. "This be my Sizzle B. right here! This be my OG from the BKNY!"

Drawing my face into my cupped hands to conceal view from Grissom about my embarrassment, it only grew as Brooke threw an arm around my shoulders and yanked my head out of my hiding spot. This was my professional life outside of work from someone from the past. I now knew that when the two collided, to be wary.

"I have no idea what you just said." Grissom said in complete confusion as I expected him to have.

As I tried to step in and say that it was a long story, Brooke cut me to the chase. "She's ain't never told you 'bout the BK days? 'Bout the crazy things we used to do as kids? Sizz! C'mon! Those are the best years!" Brooke said in absolute disappointment.

"Crazy things? Sara? What did I miss?" Greg's voice sounded from somewhere behind us.

Taking a seat next to Brooke, Greg smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of Grissom, Brooke, and myself at the table with a lingering gaze on Brooke. "We were never properly met. Greg Sanders, but you can call me whatever you like."

"Fo sho, lil' G." Why Brooke felt the need to resort back to her childhood state of mind – her New York state of mind – was unknown to me until I finally smelled the Hennessey on her breath in full force. Brooke's drink of choice.

"Greg, what happened to that woman you were getting 'acquainted' with?" I inquired as soon as I realized the flirtation in Greg's gaze toward Brooke.

"Things were going great... Until I met her boyfriend." Greg's voice dropped with his head in discouragement.

"Oo, poor Greg. Burned, huh?" Catherine's voice also entered the conversation as she joined the table next to Greg.

"Tell me about it. She could've warned me before he came up with those trees for arms and grabbed my shoulder like that." Greg massaged his right shoulder tenderly. "Threw me away like a bouncer."

"Who? Where? I'ma go holla at him." Brooke said, standing up and looking around the crowd for the man matching Greg's description.

Pulling her back down to her seat by her front pocket in her jeans, I keep her there until she settles back in. "No you won't."

"So what are you guys talking about over here? I saw you and Gil dancing out there! You were made me look like an amateur on the dance floor!" Catherine said happily as she looked from me to Grissom.

"Yeah, I didn't expect to see _you_ waltzing, Sara. That was strange." Greg chimed in, teasing with me.

"Oh, c'mon! Who _couldn't_ see them cutting up that dance floor?" The deep voice of Warrick Brown resonated well over the bass of the song. "Even Nick could see it over his temporary date, right Nicky?"

"Hey... We're mutual acquaintances." The Texan accent could be heard as the two men came to sit at the table, Warrick seated next to Catherine while Nick was a seat away from Grissom.

"Well, now it almost a party." Brooke remarked as she leaned back in her seat. "All we need is my boy JB over here."

"JB?" Warrick asked with scrunched eyebrows.

"Yeah! Jimmy Brass! JB! Hey, here he comes!" Brooke said with a grin as she turned her head back just enough to see the approaching Brass enter our table next to Grissom.

"Already on nickname basis, are we Jim?" Grissom asked with mirth in the question itself.

"Hey, what can I say? I bought her a drink and now she's stuck to me like a puppy." Brass shrugged as he took a sip of his scotch that he'd brought over from the bar. "Oh, hey Brooke." He teased lightly as if just taking in her presence.

"Ha... ha. Aren't you just the white brother to the Wayan's family?" Brooke said sarcastically as she stuck her tongue out childishly at Brass.

And the conversation just started from there. It was simplest just to say that Grissom and I held very little part in the conversation while we just sat back and laughed as Brooke interacted with our team in front of us. The great thing about Brooke, she could get along with almost anyone and my lab friends were well included. But all conversation came to an abrupt halt as soon as a certain song played throughout the hall.

"This is my JAM! C'mon y'all! Let's go dance!" Brooke insisted as she got to her feet immediately, ditching the in depth conversation about what the word "dude" actually meant.

Some disagreed more argumentatively than the rest, such as Brass and Greg, but no one could argue that Grissom and I took the most stubborn to dance award. It wasn't that I didn't want to dance, but I didn't want to dance like I knew Brooke would want me to – especially around Grissom.

"I don't know how to dance to this music." Was Grissom excuse as Brooke actually began to tug on Grissom's arm to get up, as well as mine.

"Then get Sara to teach you. She knows how to dance like this _real_ well." Brooke said mischievously as she produced enough strength to gradually – yet slowly – raise Grissom and myself out of our seats even though we were pulling back at the same time.

"Brooke!" I cried out as she finally sent me flying out of my seat.

"One dance! C'mon! Cath and Warrick are already out there! And I'm 'bout to take three on one with Nick, Lil' G, and JB. You two hafta dance! I'll show y'all the basic steps but then it's all you." With one more forceful tug, Grissom came out of his seat in a more graceful way that I had falling out of my seat. "C'mon, before the song ends!"

After gathering everyone in a circle, Brooke waited patiently for the chorus to roll around so she could instruct everyone how to dance.

_Bounce wit it,_  
Putting our arms together at the wrists, we were informed to shrug our shoulders, one time slightly and then the second time drop them significantly.  
_Drop wit it,_  
Directly after the bouncing, we had to drop all the way down to the floor with our wrists still attached and extended outward before bounce back up quickly. Of course, not all of us could make it to the floor and back up, like Brass for an example. Instead, Brass only went half way down, while everyone else followed right along with age.  
_Lean wit it,_  
We followed Brooke as she leaned back to the left side with her shoulders,  
_Rock wit it,_  
and then quickly followed up by leaning forward but it was almost like we were taking steps with our shoulders, one going in front of the other with the other one following forward afterwards.  
_Snap wit it._  
Turning our torsos and heads so that the all faced the right side of us, we leaned slightly back, tilted our heads up and snapped our fingers with a hasty rotation of our wrists. Greg and Nick had slight difficulty with the snapping as it was now apparent that they couldn't snap.  
_All my ladies, let me see you pop your back wit it._  
Instructing only Catherine and myself for this step, she told us to simply boast our chest out so that our backs indented greatly before pulling back just as quickly as we were to do it. And as this chorus repeated itself, the mens' part came up right where our part had just been.  
_All my fellas, tip yo hats wit it._  
And though no one had a hat, they were forced to pretend and take a hat off their heads and tip them forward like people would to greet someone on the street back in the 1800s and below.

After that brief lesson, everyone went to a respective partner – or in Brooke's case – _partners_ as she literally danced with Brass, Nick, and Greg at the same time. Well, by the looks of it, only Nick and Greg were getting any real action as Brass simply refused to dance the way Brooke was. He mumbled something about looking like an old perverted man if he did before he pulled away from the three person dancing group with a chaste chuckle at Greg trying to dirty dance with Brooke, but failing terribly.

Warrick and Catherine were definitely getting into it, to say the least. They were off in their own land with each other as Catherine had her back against Warrick's chest and was grinding with him like it was illegal and she was a full fledged criminal. And the ring on Warrick's finger was not felt by its owner as he grabbed Catherine's hands and led her further into the dance.

But Grissom and I were the most awkward. Not even Greg could beat us. I wasn't about to pull a Warrick and Catherine right in a room full of my colleagues with my boss. I _wanted_ to, but I figured it to be a private dance I'd rather have. Now Grissom was attempting to slide away from the group as unnoticed as possible. I couldn't blame him. Brooke kept adding on one embarrassment after another. And though I knew that she was trying to help, I was wishing she'd talk to me about this before she just took matters into her own hands.

"C'mon, Sizzle! Shake what your mama gave you!" Brooke encouraged as she managed to get over to me while dancing with Greg and Nick.

"My 'Mama' didn't give me that much, Brooke. She was a white woman." I said as I thought about my almost flat backside.

"You got more than you know. Don't make me give you a head start." Brooke warned as she soon squeezed out from between Nick and Greg, forcing them to dance together – unknown to the two men until they opened their eyes. Seeing them jump apart with a slight yell, I began to laugh but it came out as a yelp as Brooke dragged me toward the receding Grissom.

"Okay you two, use what your parents gave you." Brooke instructed as she began to dance like she had before, trying to sandwich Grissom in the middle of herself and me as she held my wrists tightly so I wouldn't escape.

Grissom, stepping underneath and out of our two person circle, couldn't contain the laughter inside of him. I couldn't tell if it was the amount of alcohol in him that made him react better than I expected him to, but I was grateful for whatever it was. But still, I was embarrassed enough without having someone laugh about it. Especially when I didn't know what the laugh was about. What was so funny?

"I'll excuse myself from this dance, Brooke." Grissom informed as he now just stood next to the two of us.

"Fine. Don't wanna dance with this? Check what you missin' then, fool." Brooke claimed arrogantly as she began to dance with me, falling into an old routine she'd taught me when we were younger.

The dance – in short – was beyond comprehension or description. But it sure left my colleagues as well as myself in surprise at my abilities as Brooke took her turn of running up my body as if it were a wall and then backflipping to land on the floor on her hands in a handstand. From the handstand, Brooke eased her way down so that her head touched the ground and – in a painfully slow fashion – she began to twirl around on her head as if she were in a slow motion headspin. That cued for me to – in slow motion – grab her feet and begin to spin her around as she twirled herself around as well. And then, in a burst of energy, Brooke spun as fast as she could in a headspin, making me jump back as a part of the routine. Moving backwards, I prepared to end the routine with the final finish when Brooke crouched into a ball while still head spin. Getting a running start, I turned just as I jumped so I could backflip two times before vaulting myself up and over Brooke, flipping backwards while rolling before landing on my feet to do one more backflip that marks the end of the routine. Brooke spun all the way down to the floor until she was laying out on the hard wood floor with her head propped up on her left hand. Myself, I was simply out of breath and striking a pose of arms across the chest defiantly.

Cheers erupted from my friends and people around us as well. Warrick, no longer distracted by Catherine, came up to me and threw his large arm over my shoulders. "Damn girl! Where have you been hiding this all these years?"

"Well, we don't exactly break into dance in the middle of the lab with a case going on, Warrick." I stated matter-of-factly, laughing inwardly at the thought of the lab being like some big musical.

"She has a point. I can't stand Hodges too much as it is. Imagine if he tried to deliver our Trace results while trying to dance?" Greg said, mock-shuddering at the thought.

"Well, I don't know about y'all, but I'ma go get another drink. All that dancing making me thirsty." Brooke announced, wiping her sweating forehead with her T-shirt.

"I hear that." Warrick agreed simultaneously to Nick.

"Who wants to take shots with me?" Greg stared from face to face, looking for a competitor.

"You're on your own Greg. I just need a cocktail." Catherine said as the five of them plus Brass who was saying something about needing to stock up on scotch again, went off to the bar.

Turning to Grissom, I shrugged. When I asked him if we should wait back at the table for everyone else, he agreed after calling out to Brass to get him another scotch as well. The silence was not as awkward as before, but it was still there from when Brooke had attempted to get Grissom and I to dance to that last song.

"This is better than I thought it would be." I admitted as I thought of my usual stubbornness of the situation.

"I'll admit, I didn't expect to enjoy the party as much as I am. And I certainly didn't expect to be dancing like your friend taught us. It was... different." Grissom admitted as well with another chuckle.

"Brooke has a tendency to do that to people. She can make people change and have a good time no matter how bad of a day you just had." I took a look back at my younger sister.

"She changed you for tonight." Turning back to see Grissom, I saw him fiddling with his now empty glass. "I haven't see you laugh or smile this much since you first arrived in Vegas."

Shrugging, I realized he was right. I never had a reason not to smile whenever I was around Brooke, whether she was at her personal lowest or I was. She always made sure I left with a smile and a happy memory. Brooke called it her duty to make up for all the times I couldn't find a reason in the world to be happy and smile. And for that mission, Brooke's never truly failed.

"I'm always happy when I'm around Brooke. You can't sit there and say that you didn't enjoy listening to the conversations Brooke was having with the team." I said, challenging him to think of a moment when he didn't have a smirk on or wasn't laughing.

"There's no doubt that Brooke is funny. I don't believe I've met anyone yet that can have a fifteen minute conversation on the actual meaning of 'dude'." With a shake of his head, Grissom looked up into the crowd. After a second of glancing, he turned back and stood up. "I'm just going to be outside for a moment. Why don't you go to the bar and see what's holding everyone?"

Looking back now, I saw what was approaching us. Lady Heather.

But she was at the table before I could even get to my feet. Grissom was already partway to the door and I was left by myself with the woman I didn't even want to know was within existence.

"Listen. I gave your friend this talk earlier. I'm hoping you're more sensible than her. If you think you're going to get between Gil and I, you are terribly mistakened." The part that aggravated me the most was that she didn't even express her anger or jealousy. It was in her voice but not her face. "Don't even attempt it."

For a moment, I was out of words to say and I was hoping she'd leave before I _could_ find something to say. But unfortunately she didn't and I was still at a loss for words.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Taking another sip of the Hennessey, I twirled around in my seat to look directly across the floor to see how Grissom and Sara were doing. But to my utter disappointment, Grissom was outside and Sara appeared to be getting grilled by Heather. Engulfing the rest of my drink, I got up and excused myself, saying I had to take care of some business. Staring around for what I was searching for, my eyes soon came across a punch stand someone had set up just a while ago. Whoever wanted punch for an adult party was definitely not in this for fun, but I suddenly became very grateful for the person who provided the three bowls of punch at the stand.

"I'll be right back with this. I just need to use it for a second, man." I said absently, my eyes and mind still on the leather woman, walking away with an entire bowl of punch that was filled with the red liquid.

Making my way straight to the table we'd all occupied minutes before my song had come on, a smirk grew larger and larger as I came closer. And by the time I was directly behind Heather, my smile couldn't have gotten any wider without it going off my face.

"I thought it was a common knowledge to not mess someone that was already taken, but I suppose there's a first time for everything." _Heather is definitely grilling Sara... Time to intervene._

And as I raised the bowl over my head and over Heather's, Sara finally realized I was in their presence. She kept shaking her head as discreetly and pleaded with her eyes not to do it, but it was a day late and a dollar short when she finally spoke up.

Heather not only had a new hat on her head, but was drenched from head to toe in the sticky and sweet liquid.

She turned in a hurry to confront the person who'd dumped the punch onto her, shoulders scrunched up from cold the large ice cubes that fell on her as well. Giving her a solid pat on the bowl on her head, I moved beside her to indicate where the bathroom was.

"The men's bathroom is right there, _dude_." I snickered as I gave her a light shove in that direction.

A death glare was what I received as she began to walk across the floor, flinging the bowl backwards at me but missing by a mile, but I simply waved to her a little too over-excitedly as I took my seat next to Sara . The poor girl next to me was doing everything in her power not to fall on the floor laughing even thought she was attempting to scold me and tell me what I did was wrong. But it wasn't hard to see that she was enjoying it even though it wasn't right. And as I took a look back at the bar, I realized all of them were snickering, if not laughing in tears as Heather passed them trying to wipe the punch off of her with her hands but to no avail.

"Uh... Buh-bye." I said as she disappeared into the woman's bathroom.

**TBC...

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**

A/N2: It came to my attention from a particular reviewer that the GSR seems like a kinda side story compared to this entire story. I thought it over, and I realized that was very true. This story does kinda revolve around Brooke and Sara. Typically, I would be worried, but it looks like y'all don't mind my character so I think it's cool. And I'm having just too much fun with the plot line this story is going on. I will be putting GSR in but mainly, and I've come to accept this while writing this chapter. This is a Heather bashing story. Hahaha, but anyways. Here's trivia for y'all. What does the word 'Dude' actually mean? Where did it come from? I know, but do you? Find that out, and hopefully you'll be laughing harder about the ending than before. But now, holla at me and let me know about this chapter. I've got most of the next chapter and the chapter after that written up already. So later. Oh yeah, and there's the interaction between Brooke and the team for that reviewer that wanted it. You know who you are. Personally, I like my Brass & Brooke interaction, tell me what y'all think about that too. Peace.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	13. Revenge Gone Wrong

A/N: All right... This chapter was rewritten about a dozen times simply because I couldn't decide what I really wanted to happen. Whether I wanted cliché or a little out of the ordinary. And I think I decided on the right thing. I, for one, am over joyed with this chapter and not just for what I hope to be my originality. Because I feel like this is my most GSR centered chapter yet. I'm not sure how y'all think of it, GSR wise, but PLEASE holla at me with your thoughts on this chapter and how my GSR goes thus far. Your reviews, as always, help me be put in the right direction, even if I'm resistant at first. Bear with me avid GSRfanatics! I'm making an effort here.

Disclaimer: >0!

Chapter 13: Revenge Gone Wrong

Sara's POV:

A strong odor attacked my sense of smell as soon as I stepped inside the bathroom. I felt my knees tremble as they fought to keep me standing as the smell became too overwhelming. It was strangely familiar but the haziness in my mind prevented any plausible idea as to what the chemical compounds might have been. Leaning against the wall was all I could do to remain off the ground from passing out.

It had to be at least a good five minutes or more before I was rescued by the sound of Brooke banging her fist against the public bathroom door. "C'mon! We're gonna finish this up before I kill the broad. Don't chicken out!" Her muffled voice cried out.

Shoving off the wall, I stumbled toward the door like I was drunk. I could barely even recollect putting my hand against the cool wood to open the door before the music enveloped me that was being played by the DJ. Staring in Brooke's general direction, frighteningly enough, I witnessed several concerned Brookes staring back at me. Shaking my head slightly to clear the dense haziness, I was relieved when the replicas merged into one body.

"Hey, you okay there?" Brooke's creased brow furrowed even more.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I automatically spurted out on my bad habit.

The concern continued until a happy look overtook it. Tapping me on the arm gently, Brooke threw a lazy arm around my shoulders as we walked back into the crowd. "Stop being so nervous! You look like a wreck when you are, which makes me nervous. And that's _never_ a good thing."

Scoffing slightly, I glanced down at her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to." I went along with it.

After parting our ways to complete the final phase, I made my way toward the balcony on the opposite side of the room that I was on. The dizziness crept back into my mind as I was encased by more and more people shortly before I reached the outside. Gratefully, as soon as the air came rushing past me and I was able to breath in the fresh air once more, all aliments seemed to be eradicated. Turning back, I witnessed Brooke now approaching Grissom and Heather in what appeared to be a drunken fashion. But just as suddenly as she was standing, albeit barely, Brooke soon found a spot on the ground as she "fell" after losing her balance on purpose to cause more of a scene for herself. Grissom, being a gentleman apparently, soon removed himself from his seat at the bar and bent down to help Brooke back to her feet while Heather looked on with an inspective eye. Just then, behind the bar that the apparent couple was seated at, a shifty barkeep that wasn't Marc slid in front of Heather, not speaking to her but simply preparing to do something of the sorts. In the background, the DJ spoke on the microphone to introduce the next song. My ears quickly overheard him mentioning the artist of the song – Marques Houston. Naturally, that would mean that it was a slow song.

_What **are** you planning now Brooke?_ I thought to myself about my mysterious sister.

When neither of the two rose from the floor, I got up on tips of my toes to get a better visual perspective on what was happening on the ground. Just barely, I noticed Brooke whispering something into Grissom's ear and then with the slightest of movements, throwing a thumb in my general direction. Surprised that Brooke was whispering while Heather was less than five feet away from her, my eyes next darted to Heather and the barkeep. To my surprise, the barkeep seemed to have held a conversation with her long enough to distract Heather from Grissom and Brooke. Had Brooke organized this all? Or was it all coincidence? Whatever it was, it seemed to be working as I soon saw Grissom stand up and his gaze was intently on me. It couldn't have been mistakened even in the slightest bit with any form of doubt. Just then, the lyrics hit me as I witnessed everyone else grab a partner and slow dance again.

_You know there's somethin' 'bout a sexy song  
That really turns me on and makes me feel at home  
And a, the melody always sounds so sweet  
As it slowly calls your body next to me_

Slowly, but surely with resolve, I noticed Grissom making his way through the crowd toward me, his eyes never breaking the contact that he held with mine. I was practically hypnotized by him, frozen in the doorway like a statue under his scrutiny. When Grissom reached the halfway mark, I finally was able to shake myself from his hold and walk out of the doorway, my destination abruptly becoming the shoreline of the lake. From the outside, I could still hear the lyrics to the song ringing true in my ears, as the name of the song rested anxiously on the tip of my tongue.

_And a, beautiful smooth conversation  
Just to, show my love and expresses just how  
How wonderful everything would be if you  
Spent the rest of your life with me_

_What is it?_ I found myself wondering just before the song got into the chorus.

_Beautiful you are, you mean the world to me  
More than anything  
Girl my life depends on your warm embrace,  
Just to feel and taste _

_Ah... Beautiful, by Marques Houston._ I thought to myself as I listened to the calming melody and awaited Grissom's arrival, half desiring it and half dreading it.

But it didn't seem to take too long until I felt his growing presence behind me, and drawing nearer. In that moment, I held my breath to hear his softly treading footfalls in the beach sand and reveled in the sound of the lake waves - not nearly as strong as the waves of the beach in San Fransisco that I faintly recalled, but still present. But as my eyes closed to the thought of being anywhere but here and living any other lifestyle other than this, the dizziness returned for a third round. And a manageable nausea accompanied it as well. Inwardly, I told myself that this was neither the time nor the place to be getting sick, even as sudden as it was. Surely, it had to be nervousness. Yet that smell that had assaulted me in the bathroom still remained a mystery to me, therefore posing as a suspect for my abrupt sickness. But how could I blame something when I wasn't even positive of what it was?

"Sara?" Thankfully, Grissom's low voice brought me back into a conscious state that I seemed to be drifting from unknowingly.

"Hmm?" I replied, never looking up at the man by my side.

There was a momentary pause which left me to wonder what he was doing until he finally spoke up. "May I have this dance?"

"Shouldn't you be asking that to your girlfriend?" The words dripped out with a bitter venom that I could no longer disguise or hold back, thinking back to how when Lady Heather had emerged from the bathroom, he'd immediately left the team as well as myself at the table to go to her side instead.

_Flashback: _

As the rest of the team sat back in the seats they'd occupied before we'd gotten up, we watched Grissom completely brush past us without a word or sound and approach Lady Heather as she appeared out of the bathroom, free of the punch Brooke had just poured on her moments ago.

"Huh... Nice way to ditch us." Greg huffed as he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.

"Well, they _**are** going out." Catherine pointed out to state the obvious as the two in conversation took a seat at the bar now. _

Before I turned back, no longer able to look at the backs of the two people without being disgusted, I only briefly caught the death glare Lady Heather had turned around to give to Brooke. And Brooke solely.

"Yeah! You better look away before I poke your damn eyeballs out with this fork, you dumb bitch!" Brooke stood up challengingly, grabbing a fork in her right hand as she yelled out the threat across the entire hall.

Getting up, already needing to go to the bathroom, I pushed Brooke back into her seat and removed the silver fork from her clenched fist. "Behave Brooke. I'll be right back." I informed them all as I took off for the ladies room.

End of Flashback:

I'll admit, it was harsh considering he was just doing what boyfriends would normally do to comfort their girlfriends, but how was I supposed to act? Like I didn't feel anything for the man? Like I haven't felt anything for him for over fifteen years?

"I have no girlfriend, Sara. Or at least, not one that I'm in love with." He let out in a breath. "'You know you are in love when you see the world in her eyes, and her eyes everywhere in the world.'" He quoted simply.

_Why do you always seem to hide behind quotes?_ "David Levesque." I answered to the giver of the quote. "Grissom, just... Say what you really mean for once. Stop hiding behind other people's words for once."

_Baby I promise the whole world to you  
Anything you want, baby, I will do  
And just to prove to you that I can be,  
All you're looking for, trust and honesty _

"Sara, I'm here right now looking at you, and I don't see Lady Heather's eyes. I only see yours. And when I look into hers, I still see your eyes staring right back at me." Grissom continued to elaborate. "Between Heather and me, despite whatever thoughts she may have about it, it's not love in my opinion."

"Then why are you going out with her?" I inquired next, still confused on his motives in this relationship if it wasn't love.

"Pity? I'm not quite sure, Sara, to tell you the truth. She's just heartbroken right now, with going through the loss of her daughter." Grissom pulled directly up to the right of me and crouched down to touch the water.

"Pity? _Pity_? That doesn't exactly sound like something the Gil Grissom I know would do." I huffed, slightly jealous at the fact that he could show that strong of an affection for someone he knew less than myself, and didn't even love. But that would be taking a selfish side to things, which I wasn't ready to call myself, even if it were true when it came to the man beside me.

"I know. The concept seems hard for me to believe as well. For one, I'm leading her on. That's not something I would do, yet I find myself doing it now." The words of a distressed man were all that reached me. "Whatever the reason I had when it initially happen, it's long since past. I've come to the realization that this relationship is far from meaningful, and I can't live day by day with that. Pretending was never my strong suit nor is it one that I like to wear." His vision shifted from the cool water to my face for a brief second. "Sara. I've told her before about my concerns where the relationship is going. But she refuses to believe it. The shock from her daughter's death still isn't gone, and I fear for her. She's not stable."

"Is that any reason to lead someone on then?" _Especially when you have someone else beside you that desperately wants the chance you've given her?_

His face fell with his head in a slump, with shame almost. "No."

"Then do what you really want, and what you won't regret." My eyes shot straight ahead, thinking of my words wisely. "Because you can't live for anyone but yourself. And there's no sense in being miserable while you're living."

There was an awkward moment of silence as Grissom, and myself alike, thought over the words. Had I truly just said that? And what was my meaning behind it? Was I talking to him? To myself? To both of us... about... us? Again, my thoughts were disturbed as Grissom took a stand beside me, towering over me and offering his hand down. This time, he had an unknown and indescribable look in his eyes as he gazed upon me.

"May I have this dance Sara Sidle?" He asked once again.

A small smirk rose to my lips as I grasped his hand and hoisted myself up, and into his arms.

_It's just the simple things that you do,  
So just hold my hand, let me sing to you babe  
The way to say baby that I thank you for bein' who you are  
Brighter than a star _

Again, it was like a natural stance for us to be like that – hand in hand and his arm around my waist with my other hand on his shoulder. Swaying in a simple motion this time, I laid my head against his chest to hear the contenting rhythm of his heart drumming strongly. It seemed surreal to me, and yet I knew it was for real. Though this was still a distance from the confession I wanted, it was a start that I was content with. And while this is what I had wanted for so long, any personal contact with the man, it almost felt wrong. Aside from the fact that Grissom had already admitted that there was no interest in Heather, the fact still remained. He was taken. Yet, this was simply dancing. You could dance with anyone – from a random guy at a night club to your nerdy cousin at a family occasion. It meant nothing. But I was still feeling as if I was the woman in an affair between a couple. That was what caused me to pull backwards momentarily to stare Grissom right in the eye.

At my sudden retreat, Grissom appeared almost startled – scared, even. "What's wrong?"

"I need to know... What happens now? Between us? Between you and Lady Heather... I need to know before my hopes raise too high." I said in a soft voice that I could barely distinguish as my own.

_Beautiful you are, you mean the world to me  
More than anything  
Girl my life depends on your warm embrace,  
Just to feel and taste _

"What you just said, Sara... About living for yourself and being happy while you do it... Not having to have regrets about what you do..." He took a breath as he looked back down at me. "I don't want to be miserable or with regrets because I didn't do what I wanted to do. 'Petty regrets shall come and go, but the one where you passed up true love shall be your biggest of all.'"

Realizing that he was hiding behind quotes again instead of getting to the point earned him an eye roll, but I went along with it like I usually did. "Shakespeare?"

"Gil Grissom." Said Grissom softly.

"And where do you see that potential regret, Grissom?" I felt a considerably large lump forming in my throat as my heartbeat rose to dangerous speed. _This can't be it... Am I dreaming about this again? Please say I'm not dreaming. _

"Right in front of me." He replied once more.

_Your love, is the sweetest I've ever known  
Your touch, is the warmest to my heart  
My heart, it all starts with you  
It feels like heaven  
'Cause all that I have is all that I give  
Beautiful _

It could've been the heat or it could've just been my emotions, but I suddenly felt myself releasing the mental constraint that told me not to get closer to Grissom whenever he was closer than deemed safe. And it appeared that Grissom was feeling the same way as his head made a descent toward mine as well. The dizziness came back again, but I wasn't ready to let blurred vision prevent me from possibly my one and only moment. Besides, I doubted that the unknown substance was entirely to blame for my dizziness this time. There was just something about Grissom that intoxicated me enough. It felt like an eternity before Grissom's ragged breath teased my lips, and with it brought a more intense dizzy spell. Before my knees gave out and before I lost complete control, I advanced at a slightly quicker pace than my timid self had been going at before, filling the gap between Grissom and me before either of us could object for some stupid reason. And while I felt the greatest of joys I'd experienced in all of my years of living – kissing Grissom along the shorelines of Lake Mead, I couldn't shake that feeling of worry about my sudden dizziness. It was no longer from Grissom or the anticipation. It encased me completely but when I came to the full conclusion of what had happened to me in the bathroom, it was too late as I collapsed into Grissom's strong arms, unconscious.

Brooke's POV:

I watched from upper balcony to down below as my plan unraveled perfectly. I'd been there since the beginning and seen everything from Grissom approaching Sara on the beach to them finally getting up and dancing. Now, with a sense of pride and satisfaction, I watched as the final step took place as Grissom and my sister kissed each other in a passionate fashion. It could've been a Hallmark moment, expect for the part when Sara fell completely limp and unconscious into her lover's arms. That's when the alarm bells set off in my head.

As Grissom tried to keep her up and wake her up, panic set in slowly. _Go down there and help directly? Or alert everyone, and then go down and help her? Do I even have to ask myself that question? _

I completely forgot about the stairs that wound down to the ground level and hopped up and over the balcony itself, landing gracefully on my feet like a cat and ran to aid my sister. As I slid to the two's side as Grissom laid her down on the beach, I peered down at her face with a worry I only had once in a while. Like when it involved Roxas or any of the other kids back at the house. Or Jen. And it was a worry that I didn't like to have.

"Sara! Damn, what happened?" I asked with an urgency in my words.

"I'm not sure. She just suddenly passed out without warning." Grissom explained as he checked her pulse.

Taking heed to my brief lessons in first aid that I'd learned what seemed like centuries ago, I loosened Sara's clothing to allow her to breath easier and checked her breathing. It appeared to be just fine and her pulse was normal. So why had she passed out? I scooped a handful of the cold lake water and strategically splashed it onto her face, making sure that it didn't get into her mouth or nasal passages. Unknown to the three of us, everyone else was assembling out on the balcony to observe what had happened. But I didn't concentrate on them. Not with my sister laying unconscious for no apparent reason in front of me.

"Someone call an ambulance!" We heard a voice call from within the buzzing crowd on the balcony.

"C'mon Sara... C'mon Sizzle B. Wake the Hell up." I told her as I continued to splash the water onto her face.

After a mumbled mantra of, "Wake the Hell up" was said for two minutes, a flutter of life came through Sara as her eyes flickered open and gazed around with a hazy look in them. Sick and confused. But before she could even get a squeak out, I'd enveloped her in my arms and hugged her until Grissom pried me off, claiming that I'd make her pass out again from lack of oxygen.

"Sara Sidle, if you _ever_ do that to me again, I will make you regret giving me gray hairs at my young and prime age." I said with a light note to mask my extreme worry that I always took to be a part of parenthood. Except this time, the recipient wasn't Roxas. It was my older sister. "What the Hell happened?"

"It was in the bathroom. Chloroform." Sara spoke up as she remembered.

_She wasn't nervous when she got out of the bathroom. She was practically getting poisoned! Argh, how much more of an idiot can I become?_ I thought heatedly to myself.

And at that point, the only person I could think of that would do that was standing in the front row of people in the crowd, peering down on the scene with the slightest of smirks playing on her thin lips. As I looked up at her now with a snarl and a glare that could kill in the meantime as I already plotted on my hands getting to her throat to strangle her, I only broke the intense glare when Sara grasped my hand. Staring down at my sister with a softer look, I complied when she asked for me to come closer for her to whisper into my ear.

"Thank you for the plan. I think it worked." Her voice said in a grateful tone.

"Anytime sis. Hey, I think I've got some business to take care of. An ambulance is on its way to check you out." I said to her in a way that I hoped didn't reveal my violent plans. "I'll meet you at the hospital later, a'ight? I promise."

The look in her eyes told me that she wasn't satisfied with the information I'd provided but I got up and prepared to leave, throwing a look up at the balcony. Only to half of my surprise, the Heather chick was already gone. At least she wasn't a complete idiot, but she obviously was if she was screwing with my family. I guess it was just one of those lessons in life she was gonna have to learn the hard way. You don't mess with my family and get away with it.

"Take care of her, G." I called over my shoulder as I raced around the side of the building to catch up, only briefly hearing Grissom questioning her about the chloroform.

As I slowed down to the stop in the parking lot, I searched for Lady Heather's car – the Carrerra. My eyes darted for the entrance of the parking lot as I heard that exact car take off at a steady pace. The blood boiled in my veins as I took off at a dash for Sara's car, leaping up and over the door and into the driver's seat. Starting up the car, I threw the car into reverse to pull out of the parking space before tossing it into drive to pursue my one and only target for tonight.

Lady Heather.

**TBC... **

A/N2: So, original or what? Listen, I'd like to make yet another confession. I've done some thinking and I've realized, this story most likely will only have a side story on the GSR. I know, I'm disappointed in myself for not thinking this story through more carefully. I think that if I had included writings from Grissom's POV, I might've been able to pull off a full GSR, but in the future, I'm not sure if that's likely. So all you hard-core GSR fans, know that I am with y'all a 1,010, but please don't give up hope on me! If y'all let me know how this chapter went, then I'll do more than consider adding Grissom's POV to my writings in this story. I think we all agree that's where the GSR would be coming from, right? Because, believe me, he's involved in this story in more ways than one. So, thank you for your time, and if this note discourages any of my reviewers because I'm on the fence about what to do, well, it was nice knowing you & thank you for your time.. To all of y'all that are still walking this path with me, I'm grateful. But now, I ain't tryna turn all Preacher New York on you so I'ma leave it at that and let me know what you think.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	14. It's Going Down

A/N: Okay, now I was planning on kicking Heather's ass in this chapter, but I decided eventually against it. Trust me, it will happen, and more than once (I can assure you all). And I somehow feel I went a lil' over the top with the description of the fighting, but I couldn't help it. I always thrive to put you guys right there. Oh, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't find out how hospitals handle chloroform inhaled patients, so that scene was a total shot in the dark. And to answer the question about what "dude" means. It's a horse's "Johnson".

But enough of me rambling. Read. Enjoy. Review.

Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. Them.

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Chapter 14: It's Going Down

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Brooke's POV:**  
**  
My eyes bore into the back of the black Carrera that Heather was driving, a fiery intent burning in my mix-matched eyes. My fingers suffocated the steering wheel and my right foot became a lead weight on the gas pedal. I knew only one thing: get revenge for Sara. Yeah, Sara wouldn't like the idea of me getting in trouble with assault charges and what not, but I couldn't find a place in my body - let alone my heart - to truly and personally give a damn. Besides... My intent wasn't to kill her; simply to rough her up and teach her a lesson that her mama obviously didn't. Not like my safety was at stake with this woman. What's the worst she could do to _me_? Scratch me?

That's why I thought nothing of it when I followed her down a dirt road just off the side of the main road we were driving on. I sped up over one-hundred twenty mph to tailgate the Carrera, keeping the driving as straight as possible while speeding down the narrowing path in the woods as she led me deeper. If she thought that it would be that simple to shake me, her mistake was going to be horribly wrong – even more than words could express.

But my confusion didn't go unfelt as she led me into a dirt lot with spaciously open land, automatically surrounding me by cars similar to the one she was driving. I slammed on the breaks as I entered the middle of the ring of black Carreras and looked around me as the owners of each individual Carrera steadily got out of them – some of them being accompanied by two or three companions. In all, I surmised there to be about more people than I could count on my hands _and_ feet.

She set me up, that sneaky little bitch.

And it wasn't until they all started to close in on me around the car and I saw the sadistic, yet minute, smirk on Heather's face as she stepped out of her own car. She was parked just outside the ring and had half of her body out of the driver's side as she opened it. It wasn't until I saw that smirk that I knew I was truly in deep shit. That went as far to explain why I hopped out of the car and tried to break through the ring of royally ripped guys that had nothing but pain in mind for me, some of them with leather whips in hand while the others simply cracked their knuckles. But the barrier was simply too thick to break through, as one of the guys shoved me to the ground with one hand. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like putting up a fight against people, but sometimes, as I learned, it's not all about what you feel like doing or what you wanna do. It's about what you gotta do to survive.

"Go easy on her. We don't need a murder scene." Heather's cool voice halted the mens' advance for an assault for a split second, and from on the dirt ground, I heard her get into her car and pull out of the lot.

I scurried to my feet and prepared myself for the world of pain I knew I was gonna feel by the end of this fight. "BRING IT!"

* * *

Sara's POV:

I laid in the hospital bed and stared absentmindedly up at the white ceiling, which I was now internally debating whether it was truly white or an off-white. Either it was my haziness or I had lost my sense of distinguishing colors. But that was all I could do to not let my mind wander to the thought of where Brooke was right now. Or worse yet, _what_ she was doing now.

"She said she'd be here, Sara. Don't worry." Grissom's voice spoke calmly and quietly, almost reading my mind.

"I know that, but still. I'm concerned about _why_ she left so suddenly. Knowing my sister, it could not have been good if she left just like that." I said nonchalantly, finally gazing at my bedside instead of the ceiling.

"Sister? I thought she was just a friend. I don't see where there's a relation." Grissom said as he sat back in his seat, lightly holding my hand.

"Foster sister. From one of the first homes I was in. Best one I had too." I said, trying to hide the sadness in my words.

"Ah, that's how you know her so well." He said, picking up my underlying tone that I didn't want to discus it any further. "I'm sure there was some sort of justification behind her leave, though."

I couldn't find myself saying the words to tell Grissom that Brooke didn't necessarily abide by the laws like a good civilian. How could you explain that to someone inside the law enforcement? I had difficulty thinking about it just by myself, so how would it appear to someone that didn't know Brooke at all? Not good is the only reply I could come up with by myself.

"Do you believe they'll let me out tonight?" I was quick to change subjects and to fill the silence before my thoughts came back.

"Possible. The doctor has to look over you first though. You know that." Grissom said with a small hint of exhaustion in his voice as he stifled a yawn.

"You sure you don't want to go home? You look tired." I asked almost sympathetically to him, knowing I was what had kept him at this hospital for the past several hours.

"Being around a large group of people has always made me tired. Typical effects of being anti-social." Grissom gave a modest shrug as he shook another yawn off. "And I'm not going home without you."

Not able to conjure up any sort of legible reply, I opted to smile in a sly sense of gratitude. Well, even if Brooke did something bad tonight, at least she did something correct. I was where I'd wanted to be for the longest time coming. Hopefully, this meant no more sleepless nights, no more cold and empty spaces next to me when I awoke, and most importantly, no more dreading when I come home after work because of the realization that I had nothing to go home too. Now, hopefully, _this_ changed all _that_, and soon, _that_ would change all of the things in my life right now that I hated most. Now all that remained to deal with was Brooke and the department permitting a supervisor dating his subordinate. And at the risk of sounding like I wished death upon the woman in thought, I knew that if Heather came into the picture again, I could count in on Brooke to deal with her.

That's just when the thought struck me. Lady Heather. The bathroom. Hadn't she gone into the bathroom at least a few minutes before I had? She couldn't have known I was going to the bathroom though. She most likely wouldn't have gone into the bathroom to begin with if it wasn't for Brooke's prank with the punch. Would she have truly just left the chloroform in the bathroom for anyone to inhale that walked in, in hopes that one of the people would be me? It was risky, but if she wanted it bad enough, she probably would've done it. After all, opportunity arose – I thought as I remembered a janitor's cart that was just sitting in the bathroom.

_It had to be Heather._ I concluded in my mind. _If the chloroform had been in there when Heather went in, she would've had it worse than I did. She was inside the bathroom for longer than I was, and I walked out all messed up. And no one else went into the bathroom before me after Heather._

Brooke, already knowing that Heather had something against me, must've jumped to the conclusion that Heather was the culprit, and gone after her. Of course, it wasn't evidence based, but nonetheless, she was still as correct as I was in my own conclusion.

_God Brooke, if you end up in the station under arrest for some type of assault charge... _I began to think with an inward exasperation at the thought of Brooke getting herself into trouble. _Sometimes I wonder if Brooke is just a menace and threat to society._

It was at least another hour or two more before my doctor entered the room to do her inspections. She approached with a radiating warmth in her smile that I seemed to be able to reciprocate despite the situation and my troubled thoughts of my problematic sister.

"Fancy seeing you here, Ms. Sidle. And with a companion this time..." Dr. Howard gave a short laugh. "all the better. Sorry it took me some time to get here, but tonight seems to be the night of the fights and trauma victims."

Just the mere mention of a fight had me jumping to conclusions, but I forced them out. "Understandable. I just need to know one thing: Can I get out tonight?"

"If all is well with you according to my inspection, Ms. Sidle, then yes. You can go. But let me do my job first." Dr. Howard shot me another toothy grin as she looked up from her clipboard. "But why don't you explain to me what happened?"

"I believe I inhaled chloroform. Obviously not a lot, because I was still walking around for about fifteen minutes or more conscious. But I kept getting bad dizzy spells." There truly wasn't much to tell. "Finally, it just got so bad that I passed out."

"For how long?" The doctor asked after scribbling down her notes in a hastened fashion.

"I'm not too sure." I said with uncertainty.

"Two minutes." Grissom chimed in from next to me. "About that amount."

"All right. Are you experiencing pain right now? Any of the typical effects from inhaling chloroform?" Dr. Howard had a general and sincere worry in her voice as she asked the question.

"No. I feel fine now. I think the dizziness was all I got out of it." I double-checked my words to make sure they were true and not just to put the woman at ease. I didn't want to leave the hospital only to be secretively being poisoned from chloroform still.

"Are you positive?"

"Absolutely."

"I have no reason to doubt your credibility then. I feel safe enough releasing you, but if you should experience pain, get back here immediately. If it was chloroform, it's not to be taken lightly." Dr. Howard gave me warning, one that I already knew.

"I know." I said simply, removing myself from the bed to stand up.

"In that case, have a nice morning Ms. Sidle, and your friend as well." Dr. Howard bid us farewell as she exited the room.

I heard the footfalls of Grissom's come from the side of the bed over to my side as he entwined his fingers with mine. "Not anymore, I'm not." He said, referring to the friend comment.

And it was like that, we walked out of the room and out into the hall, going home at 3:00 in the morning. Not just a house, but a home now.

_Thank you Brooke._ I said silently in my head as I stared across to the driver's seat at Grissom as he gazed back comfortably at me. _Thank you.

* * *

_

Brooke's POV:**  
**  
I stifled a yelp as the crack of a whip and the feeling of leather snapping across my face was all heard and felt for what felt like the umpteenth time during this long and drawn out battle it seemed like I was destined to lose. An hour's worth, and still running. It was only because I refused to give up and pretend to be knocked unconscious, so that meant that I was just gonna have to knocked unconscious for real, unless I got help in to aid me.

_But who's gonna come rescue my ass at this late? It must be at least past midnight! _I thought urgently as I jumped back from another whip crack.

By jumping back, I immediately jumped into the bear-like arms of another one of my attackers. The arms seemed to wrap around my fit body like a Boa Constrictor and suffocate me just as equally. That's when the thrashing commenced. I tore away violently over and over from the man, until the thought hit me to bite him. He released me as he gave out a low howl of pain, the taste of his blood in my mouth from where I broke the skin.

_I've at least gotta get to the car so I can run their asses over. But then I'd be dead shit for sure. _I thought anxiously as I ran further backward until I hit one of the Carreras with my back.

Now the question remained of who the Hell I was going to call. Not Sara. She was possibly still in the hospital waiting for me to swing by. Jen? Not her either. Best case scenario, she was at home sleeping and watching the kids. Worst case scenario, she was getting as bad a beat down by Eric. The cops? I've been around too many of them this night alone. I don't want to be around even the ones that would actually help me for a change. So who's left?

_Taj._

If I couldn't fight them all, if I couldn't out run them, my best bet to someone that could at least help me fight them would be Taj. Maybe even some of his friends. But this was a late hour... But yet, he owed me. After that time back then...

I had no time to think about it when I noticed the guys closing in on me. I took off at a dash around the ring of Carreras, taking out my cellphone and speed dialing Taj's number. I continued to run as the phone rang in my ear. I was forced to jump the unconscious bodies of the few that I managed to knocked out as if they were hurdles. I was in a tough predicament, but that didn't mean I was completely helpless.

"_Who dis? What you want?_" Taj's voice asked in a whiny tone over the phone.

"Quit whining, Taj. It's not very appealing coming from you." I scolded him as I hopped over another unconscious body and just out of the reach of one of the faster people in the mob.

"_Brooke? Is that you?_" Taj asked, now able to recognize my voice, and by the tone of his voice, urgency.

"The one and only. Listen, I need some help right now." I cut through the middle of the circle that I was running around.

"_Did you get arrested?_" Taj asked with an exasperation, already rushing around and collecting clothes to put on from the sounds of it.

"_Where are you going? Who's that?_" A quieter and feminine voice was heard almost inaudibly in the background.

I nearly stopped my running and breathing for that matter, at the thought of Taj having a woman in his life. Was she another one of his one-night stands, or was she serious? Or better yet, just who the Hell was she?

_Stop jumping to conclusions. And even if she does mean something to Taj, why the Hell do you care? He's not yours. _My conscience snarled at me as I picked up the pace, heading straight for a small gap between two of the Carreras.

"No... I'm not. Look for a clear dirt path just about a couple miles east of the Lake Mead Party House. I'm down here, surrounded by guys that wanna kill me or at least knock me out. I need back up Taj, _now_." I said, pushing past the thought of Taj with a woman.

"Okay, okay. I'll be there quicker than quick, baby. Keep tight, and don't even try to fight them. I'm on my way." _Did he just call me baby?_

Before I got a chance to ponder it, I shut the cellphone and pushed it back into my pocket. It was amazing that it hadn't fallen out yet. Jumping up on top of the Carrera to my right, I scurried up and over it so that I was finally out of the Ring of Death, I should've been calling it. Behind me, the cars creaked and groaned as the hoard of thugs jumped over them to reach me, just as I grabbed the closest tree to me and launched for it. Not having time to tighten my grip, I shot up the tree to the top, disregarding the fact that the tree was flimsily swaying in the wind as it was. I clutched to the top of the tree for dear life, being twenty some odd feet off the ground and a crowd of people below me that would take advantage of the situation if I were to fall. And if I thought the tree's stability was at its worst to begin with, when one of the larger member of the group began to shake the tree with his bare hands, I was sure it was only a matter of time before the tree snapped like a twig.

_One... Two... Three!_

I instantaneously let go of the tree and free fell into the crowd, praying that they were too dumbfounded to move away. The feeling that I endured was almost sickening, as if my stomach had nestled into a new home in my throat. I had no control over how I fell through the air at the velocity I was falling at, so I opted to curl into the tightest ball I could and try to roll onto my side. Never my back or front, just incase the morons below had some form of intelligence and moved out of the way. If I hit my back, that'd mess with my spine, and if I landed on my front... Well, I'd rather not think of that.

Thankfully, albeit it was more painful than I imagined it to be, I crash landed into the crowd of people below me, taking several down to the dusty ground with me. Though I could only assume that it would've left me in more pain if I hadn't landed on the people, I couldn't deny that various parts of my body ached from colliding with the people's bony parts. Deciding that if I didn't push that minor pain aside I'd be in more pain that I deemed healthy, I stood up and launched my balled up fist to the closest target I could see, the man that was shaking the tree. I didn't stop hitting until every single on of them had a black eye or some type of indentation of my rings in they're faces. That's not to say that I didn't get a taste of their own fists or whips, whatever the guy's preference was. It was all about to end, however when I heard the unsheathing of a dagger from someone behind.

_Figures the one time that I need my gun that I don't have it. _I thought angrily as I quickly concocted an idea of what to do.

Prior to that thought, I propelled myself backwards into the attacking man's chest, resting his extended arm over my shoulder, the joint in his elbow propped up directly on my shoulder while the dagger was grasped inside his hand facing to the inside of me. Seizing his wrist with my hand, I drove my shoulder straight up into the man's elbow, bending it in ways that it should've never been able to go into under normal circumstances. The screaming and writhing in pain from the man was music to my ears as I heard him drop to the ground with a large thud.

Having dropped the dagger on contact, it injected its lethal blade into the arm of one of the man I happened to land on. Looking down briefly to see him clutching his injured arm in agony and his face scrunched up from the pain, I plucked the dagger out of his body and continued to move on. There was nothing else I could do. I wasn't about to call an ambulance for someone that tried to kill me. Maybe after I got out of there, I'd call 911 anonymously to let them know, but 911 was the furthest thing from my mind right now.

Brandishing a bloody dagger now, I looked dangerously toward each of my remaining opponents, seeing the realization in their eyes that the tides of this battle were about to change.

_What am I? A shit magnet?_ I thought with an inward sigh. _All those classes I took with Sara on karate and self-defense better pay off heavily now.  
_  
But before I could properly center myself to "open all my senses", as our sensai once advised, the assault began with a man off to my left coming at me with a low decked kidney-punch. A swift rotate was made so I faced "Left Hand Man" with my back to the person that was previously to my right, clenching "Left Hand Man's" hand as tight as I could to make his knees give from the pain. Hearing the shuffling of man I had my back to, I turned my head ever-so-slightly to see that he also had a knife in hand, albeit it was a pocket knife. Like I had with the "Dagger Man", I threw the side of my body "Pocketknife Man" was trying to attack and repeated the elbow breaking move, hearing the nauseating cracks and crunches next to my ear. The screams came again, both from the man in front and behind me, as I tossed my bent elbow directly into "Pocketknife Man's" face, finally allowing him to fall back. Kicking him off from leaning on me, I turned to the man kneeled down before me as I dragged him up to his feet and twirled him around once in a circle before launching him into the tree behind me.

_Twenty-one down, five to go. _I thought, counting everyone from the once enormous group that was now unconscious or no longer a threat to me.

Pivoting back to the remaining five, I saw that they were actually avoiding me for the first time since this fight began. As I stepped out of the small spot of bodies, I didn't seem to take notice of one of the more sly contenders creeping up behind me and give my hand that possessed the dagger a swift kick to make me drop it. Facing him now, I aimed low as I returned the favor of kicking him back – or rather more like a shove with my foot - but it was far from reaching his hand, if you catch my drift.

Now becoming enveloped within a new circle of only four people, I backed up as I dodged a high kick that would've made contact with my face had I not drawn back. Sensing the person behind me was about to grab me and act as a wall to hold me there while they beat me mercilessly, I turned around hastily to link arms with him as if we were doe-se-doeing at a White Man's Country Club, just in time to catch "High-Kick Man" pivoting around for another high kick, but leaving his standing leg wide open for an attack. Coming about from around the man, I gave a swift air stomp, as I would put it, to the inward side of his knee, denting it to go outwards instead of its normal bending route. To anyone's imagination, he wasn't kicking that high anymore. On the contrary, he wouldn't be kicking anything but his ass in a metaphorical sense in regret for messing with me after he got out of this.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man actually using his head and arming himself with a thick branch discarded on the ground from the tree I had climbed up just earlier. Holding it as if it were a baseball bat, he was next to approach as he took a swing with my head like it was originally made out to be the ball. Feeling the slight tug away from me from the other man that I still had linked arms with, I dipped my body back and left my "doe-se-doeing partner" to take the hit, quite literally. For the time being, I kicked "Branch Man" back to delay any other movements he had for a much needed moment or two. "Doe-se-doeing Partner" would be feeling that one when he woke up, I thought as he fell to the ground.

"Branch Man" came back again, no longer modeling the branch he'd earned his name for, but yet another knife that had been harbored in the belt loop of his jeans. Turning just in time to see him try and drive the jagged blade into my skull, I ceased his wrists as I dexterously confiscated it and used the butt of the knife to smash into his forehead, all in one fluid movement. After all, I wasn't looking to kill them. Death would be too much of a pleasure in their surely miserable lives. I wanted to make them feel worse when they woke up in the morning, like I was going to with all the welts and bruises from their fists and whips.

The sound of a roaring engine and the emitting of headlights from the entrance of the lot distracted me from the remaining opponent that was now sneaking up behind me. If I thought "Branch Man" was the sensible one out of this group, I was mistakened. The most prepared man was the final component, who withdrew a .23 pistol from his waistline in his pants and put it to my temple while I was only halfway turned to him. The cold steel of the barrel felt frighteningly good to my sweating and heated face, but I knew I wouldn't be enjoying it for long if he pulled the trigger.

_Goodbye Karate, hello break dancing. _

Falling backwards, I temporarily forgot on purpose that there was a gun involved as I did a back flip and brought my feet back with me, kicking him in the face as I returned to a standing position. Stunning him transiently, I performed a quick follow-up with the same thought in mind, with a slight twist that I liked to call, "30 Yards". Flipping backwards into yet another back flip, I seized the man by his stalky neck with my ankles, deliberately constricting his airway to get a firm grip on him as I lifted him off the ground and flung him carelessly across the lot as I rolled back into a sitting position just in time to see him collide with the ground just a few feet away from where the car had skidded to a stop only seconds beforehand. That wasn't called "30 Yards" for nothing.

Out from the driver's side of the Porsche came Taj, signaling for me to get in the car. Looking around at the result of this fight, I smirked with that same cocky confidence I had as I dashed for the car.

"So much for not fighting them. I hope you didn't kill any of them." Taj said as I approached the passenger seat and opened the door.

Unfortunately, the seat was already occupied by a familiar albino face, none other than Jason Shea, the second youngest out of the three foster kids that I grew up with in the Crooks' household. There was Sara, myself, Jason, and Monica, who was no longer alive, as fate would have it.

"Jay!" I screamed in excitement, forgetting about my pain for the moment.

Being mute, he simply let out a squeak in surprise to the sudden reaction from me encasing his rather petite body into a large bear hug. I hadn't seen him for an eternity and it felt good to feel like I was gaining my old family back again. All that remained was Monica, but all us Crooks' kids knew that wasn't going to happen.

_Let's get the reunion part over with when we're away from here. _He signed to me as he lifted his seat up for me to get into the back.

"Agreed." I said as I took one last look at the scene, seeing several of the guys still squirming around in pain. Looking back at the raised up seat, I shook my head. "I've got another car that I need to drive back to someone's house."

Taj, already seated back in the driver's seat, was stared at by Jay, before my brother got up and out of the car. With any further explanation, he pushed me back down into the seat he'd once occupied. I pushed against him, but I soon found that I was in more pain that I'd originally calculated. Jay carefully buckled me in, adjusting the belt so that it didn't touch any of my wounds that were running across my chest. My back burned with an intense pain already from the seat touching the welts from the whips, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat as my adrenaline rush wore off. Leaning down, he put a feather light kiss to my forehead and then pulled back to close the door for me. Staring out and up at him from the already rolled down window, the confusion was clear in my eyes. He smirked and gave a one-shouldered shrug.

_You need to be looked after right now... Give me the address, and I'll go return the Lambo to its rightful owner. _He signed to me, offering his explanation.

"For one, I'm not a little girl that needs a babysitter to look after her." I told him with my serious and authoritative tone. "And for two, the car goes to the Tudor Apartments, apartment 8D." I said with a sigh as Jay gave me one of his "Please let me help you" sympathy gazes. "Thanks little bro. _Mucho amor_." I said as I weakly reached out for his hand to give it a quick squeeze in my own special thanks.

_No hay de que_. To my pleasant surprise, he'd been brushing up on his Spanish sign language.

**TBC...

* * *

**

A/N2: Yeah, all right. So, obviously, this chapter was dedicated to Brooke, and almost predictably, half (or maybe a small bit over a half) of the next chapter will be as well. Hope nobody minds. Well, hey, what am I doing? I should be off writing it! I'll update soon (if I get reviews of course.) Oh yeah, and just to inform, I will be definitely adding Grissom's POV at some point. Not truly sure when, but I will, and I will be trying not to make the GSR too much of a sidestory. As my very good friend – Chloe – pointed out, GSR is just too good to be too much of a sidestory.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	15. Family First

A/N: A'yo y'all... This MC New York back with an update. Know it took a long time, but I've been through a lotta BS lately so you gotta have patiences with me, cool? For the next few chapters I'm gonna be trying my hand at GSR and then developing Brooke's private life away from Sara. Trust me, the private life is needed for the whole life of this story, so please don't review saying that I'm getting away from CSI because by the end, it will be about CSI, trust me. Much obliged to y'all that don't rag on me for this.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI or anything associated with the production. I just own the plot, my characters, and this hooptie ass computer.

Chapter 15: Family First?  


Sara's POV:

I was in his house, smelling of his soap from the shower I just got, and I was wearing his T-shirt and pajama pants. Sitting on the black leather couch, I stared out the window behind the couch into the dark night, and yet, though I should've been metaphorically jumping for joy, I found one emotion was running parallel through my mind next to elated. Worried.

Breaking my eyes away from the abyss, I looked at the coffee table a little less than an arm's stretch away from me and the cellphone that sat patiently on it – ready to take in any calls from anyone that had the nerve to call me at 3:45 in the morning. The cellphone number had attracted everyone beside the one person I needed to call me at this point in time – Brooke Waters.

"Sara, you truly should eat something. Just staring at the phone won't make it ring." Grissom called from the kitchen that was across the living room as he poured the both of us a cup of coffee.

Altering my vision from the phone to Grissom as he stared back at me from across the breakfast bar with the two cups in hand, I knew he was just looking out for me.

"As soon as I get in contact with Brooke, I promise I'll eat something." I compromised as my eyes followed him moving from the island over to where I sat.

"How about an hour more?" He further compromised the matter, handing me my cup carefully before taking a seat next to me.

As I thought this over, I sipped the steaming liquid and decided on my answer. "Hour and a half."

"Better then nothing, I suppose."

"I just can't think of where she'd be where she wouldn't answer her phone. She always has it on her and she'd never screen a call when she knows who's calling." I said as I saw my reflection in the black liquid.

Just when I thought it was going to be left at just that, Grissom spoke up after a sip of his own coffee. "Perhaps she's spending..." I was forced to glance at him as he struggled with developing the right word to complete the sentence. "_personal_ time with someone else."

His words and thoughts kept me silent in contemplation for a moment or two. It wasn't that it wasn't possible, but I just couldn't see her simply blowing me off just for some guy. It's been hours since Brooke had left. She'd even promised to meet up with me at the hospital – would one guy truly had kept her from me for that long?

_Depends what he means to her._ My conscience replied as I caught myself looking over at Grissom myself.

"Brooke's not like that. It's practically law between us... Family first. Everyone else comes after." I replied, returning my attention to my coffee.

With a small amount of reluctance, Grissom scooted himself closer to myself and placed his cup down as he wrapped his arms around my waist now. Moving around so that I was now leaning against his side, I rested my head against his shoulder as I tried now to not let the matter bother me as much. I became docile after fifteen minutes of simply leaning and resting against him, no longer paying any attention to my half empty coffee that was surely losing heat energy with each passing moment. But the minute my cellphone began to ring, all relaxation was forgotten about as I set my cup down and stared intently at the caller ID.

'_Wireless Caller:  
1-508-287-7196'_

_Brooke._

"Brooke, where have you been?" I immediately answered, knowing the numbers to her cell by heart from the number of times I'd called it.

_"Doesn't anyone just answer with a simple 'Yo' or 'What's up' anymore?"_ A weaker tone that I didn't accompany with Brooke asked with a soft chuckle I didn't think of as her own.

"Brooke? Are you all right?" I asked now, worried again knowing that Brooke would've had a much more sarcastic approach in her remark back if she was fine.

_"Oh yeah, I'm fine Sizz... Don't even sweat it. I'm just... tired."_ A classic excuse came out with some hesitation. _"I dropped by the hospital though... They said you were already administered to leave. I take it that means you gonna be a'ight?"_

"Yes, I'll be fine. It didn't do too much damage. You pulled me out just in time." I said, still not buying her "tired" story.

_"Hey, God only looks out for children and fools. You're neither one so I guess that's what I'm here for."_ Brooke said as she hissed in what sounded like pain. _"So, where you at? Who you wit?"_

"Grissom took me back to his house. I'm here with him right now." I replied as I gave a brief look at Grissom who looked up when he heard his name.

_"Good... Good. I take it the plan worked then?" _Brooke asked and I could hear the mirth she was trying to express.

"Yeah, it did. I've got to thank you for that." I insisted as I relaxed back into Grissom's arms again.

_"Nah... The family always comes first, and I'm just looking out for you."_ Brooke shook it off with a genuine modesty that I hadn't guessed would come with her almost always arrogant attitude. But I had to remember, Brooke did have her modest moments. _"But hey... I'ma holla at cha later, a'ight? I'm gonna try to get some sleep now, but I just wanted to check back in with you."_

"Well, that was thoughtful of you." I wanted to add how long I'd waited for her to check in but decided against it. "Sleep well Brooke."

_"A'ight, you too if you can actually get some sleep tonight, you animals."_ Her quirky comment assured me a bit that she was all right while it also sent a wave of embarrassment over me as well. _"Peace."_

"Later."

Hanging up, I placed the phone back on the coffee table and returned back into Grissom's arms. I could definitely get used to that feeling, I surmised, as I stared up at as I felt his eyes down on me.

"Well, now that she's called, it's time for you to keep to your end of the bargain." Grissom said with one of those half smiles as he removed himself from my seat and went off for the kitchen once more.

"Hey! No fair! I was just getting comfortable." I pointed out with a mock-pout, subconsciously amazed that in not even one day of being in an unofficial relationship with him, the comfortability around him matched a married couple.

Brooke's POV:

"Sleep, huh? Don't know how you'll be able to sleep with those wounds on your back, B." Taj said as he pulled into Jen's drive way, already seeing me wincing in pain with every slight move I made.

"I'll survive." I remarked as I began to attempt and open the door to get out. I was in more pain than I thought I was in to begin with.

"Hey, hey... Don't try to be doing too many things by yourself here. Why do you think I'm here?" Taj asked as he got out of the car and came around to the passenger side.

"Well normally, it's just to sit there looking naturally stupid, but right now it's to drive me back home _and_ look naturally stupid." I said sarcastically and with a slight bitterness as I rejected his try at helping me out of the car – only putting me in more pain I found out.

"C'mon, stop being so stubborn. I'm only trying to help." Taj said with a hint of hurt in his voice. "I thought we were friends."

And though I'd never show it, that comment hurt.

There wasn't an inch on my body that didn't hurt as I hoisted myself out of the car. My torso and face burned from the welts that were becoming more irritated the more contact they had with other objects such as the car seat I was just in. From the numerous times I'd gotten kneed or sucker punched in the stomach, I found it close to impossible to hold what food I had in my stomach. The fact that I kept tasting the strong coppery flavor of my own blood in my mouth didn't help my stomach problem, and though I'd had my share of busted lips in my lifetime, this one still hurt like all the rest. And where I'd just began to recover from my black eye from several days ago, another one took it's place now, though not nearly as swollen or bruised as the one before it had been.

"I can handle myself, Taj, I don't need help." I said as I tried to regain my balance.

_C'mon, just one adrenaline rush to get me into the house. That's all I need._ I thought to myself as I began to stumble toward the house with difficulty even when I was using the car as a wall to guide me.

"Then what did you call me for at one... two in the morning, if you didn't need help? When you needed a ride? You're trying to tell me that wasn't _help_?" Taj asked in disbelief, taking small steps to match my stumbling pace I was going at.

"Exactly." My hesitation in answering is what showed that I knew he was right.

"Bullshit Brooke. Bullshit." He called bluff on me, stepping in front of my path.

Wincing from the pain again, I tried to hide that face and push past him. "Will you get outta my way!"

"No." He simply put it as he maneuvered himself under my arm and wrapped his arm around my waist. And though I resisted against his help, to neither of our surprise, I eventually gave up knowing that I was too weak to fight back right now.

The door opened wide when Taj had gotten me less then two feet from it, a worried but unharmed Jen standing behind it with her hand now over her mouth in shock from my appearance as Taj continued to drag me in. I heard her feeble attempts to speak up as Taj led me toward my bedroom, but she forfeited the thought as she went to the kitchen to fetch a damp washcloth no doubt.

Kicking the door open, Taj helped me as far as the bed and gently placed me down on it – slightly propped up against the wall on the other side of my bed. Not a word passed between us either before or after Jen had entered and left, simply coming in to clean up my face and giving me a pack of ice for my eye. Taj had busied himself to look at my new additions on the walls with my posters of 2pac and the like.

"Taj... I..." I began to speak up, but just then, a tired-eyed Roxas came stumbling in with his favorite blanket Taj had gotten him when he was born and rubbing the sleep in his beautiful blue eyes away.

"Mama? You a'ight?" He asked as he began his journey from the threshold to my lap.

"Yeah baby. 'Course I'm fine. I just got a little roughed up tonight, that's all." I replied, carefully taking my child into my arms, wary not to disturb any of the wounds that covered my body. "Taj came to the rescue though, so I'll be fine."

Lifting his head from being buried into my shoulders, Roxas casted a glance up at Taj who had turned and was now leaning against the wall, observing us. "Tank you, Taj."

A small smile came across Taj's lips just then as he moved from the wall to the bed, sitting next to me to ruffle Roxas's fluffy chestnut hair. "Anytime kiddo."

Within moments, Roxas had fallen asleep upon switching from my arms to Taj's. Seeing him cradling my son like he was, concentrating solely on him only, I began to feel a hope I hadn't felt in a long time. It was foolish for me to feel it, but I didn't exactly shun it at this point either.

"Brooke?"

Glancing up from my folded hands to my door, I saw Jen standing there now. "Yeah, what's up?"

Entering and sitting on the opposite side of me, Jen took in my appearance once more. "What in the Hell happened to you?"

"Nothing. Just took on a fight I couldn't handle, that's all." I brushed it aside quickly, not wanting to talk about it.

"What kind of fight are we talking about here, Brooke? These are _welts_, not slices." Said the younger woman as she took in the tears across my torso. "And I can only think of one thing that would leave a welt behind."

"Like I said, it was a fight I couldn't handle. All I need is a night to recover and a bath and I'll be back on my feet again." I insisted, reassuring both her and myself. "C'mon, you've seen me come back in worse shape than this, and I've been back on my feet in less than a day."

"You're crazy, Brooke. You both are. Eventually, you're gonna get yourself killed." Jen remarked as she got up from the bed and made her way back to the door. "And you're gonna leave behind a lot."

"Jen... No one's gonna die, so please... Don't over dramatize this situation this time." I said with an exhausted sigh as I rubbed my forehead with a headache that added itself onto my "pain pile". "You know I hate it when you do that."

Without another word, Jen exited my room, silently shutting the door behind her. Outside in the hall, I heard the whisper of Alex and Kylie asking about me, and then Jen replying that I would see them in the morning after I'd rested. Turning to glance as Roxas who was snoring lightly, I leaned forward just enough to plant a light kiss on his forehead after brushing the soft bangs away from his forehead.

"Do you want me to go put him back in the children's room, or do you wanna keep him in here tonight?" Taj whispered to me as he readjusted Roxas against his shoulder now.

"Keep him in here tonight, please." I replied, placing the ice pack on the broken down nightstand beside my bed and gently patting at the open flesh wounds with the wet cloth, hissing on contact. I just didn't have the energy to get a bath.

But even the welts on my front were nothing compared to the ones on my back, when I compared the pain between the two. Unshed tears had formed in my eyes from just patting down my front, I regretted to think about how unbearable the pain would be for my backside. And yet I knew that the dirt would aggravate it more than the washcloth would.

"Taj? Could you just get my back for me?" I requested, handing the bloody washcloth over to him.

As gently as he possibly could, Taj dabbed the cloth against the large welts on my back. Each touch brought both a fresh wave of searing hot pain as well as a shiver of something I couldn't identify. Mainly, I ignored that incessant shiver, which only left me to bear the shots of pain that ran through my body with every touch. I bit back screams of excruciating agony as tears built up and spilled onto my bed.

_Almost three years without crying, and this broke it. A little welt across the back._ I scolded myself as I felt more tears streak down my face.

"Are... are you crying?" Taj's voice inquired from behind me as his patting ceased for a moment.

"No. I'm fine." I said in a sharp tone, holding back a violent hiss of pain. "Thank you for that."

Standing up and tossing the clothe on the nightstand next to the ice pack, Taj handed Roxas into my arms as he returned to his inspection of my posters, though not as actively as he had before. It was only a matter of minutes filled with silence and a definite awkwardness before Taj spoke up.

"Right..." Taj dragged out the word, showing his discomfort. "I guess I'll be going now then..."

"Please don't." I quickly requested, quicker than my ability to understand _what_ I'd requested. "Unless you have something else that needs your attention."

"No... No, no, no. I don't have much beside a bed waiting on me." Taj scratched the back of his head with a shrug. "Why, though?"

_Yeah... Why Brooke?_ My conscience repeated with a sneer.

But in all honesty, why _did_ I want him to stay? From the hopeful glint in his ocean blue eyes, like Hell it had to be for the reasons I suspected he had in mind. No, it was for the only logical reason of them all.

"Do you really think I can take Eric on in this condition? He's stronger than I give him credit for and I wanna make sure he'll get his ass kicked properly if he tries to fuck with Jen or the kids. You're th only person I trust that much."

With a short laugh and nod of his head, Taj assured his stay. But now, shockingly to my disappointment, that particular look in his eye was gone now and I missed it to a small extent. The good thing was that Taj didn't notice and he insisted I try to sleep. And as if it wasn't pitiful enough, Taj needed to _help_ me lay down on the bed. From there, he sat down in line with my stomach as I encircled the slumbering Roxas in my arms. Taj took a very brave move as he reached for my languid hand, entwining our fingers without hesitance.

_Oh no... Not again._

Yanking away my captured hand as fast as I could without inflicting pain or disturbing Roxas, I shot him a very disapproved and scolding glare.

"Taj, don't push it."

And as I watched an emotionally hurt and rejected Taj stand, mumble that he'd sleep on the couch, and leave – shutting the door behind him – I couldn't seem to recall a time were I'd felt quite so miserable as I did now.

**TBC...**

A/N2: There you go! Updated, and I already have part of the next chapter written. I suppose I'll see y'all then. Peace!

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	16. Good Mornings

A/N: A'ight people, this is to redeem Grissom and to make him live up to his intelligent standard he's set at in the show. Intelligent GrissomOhsoSexy. Drool Monkey GrissomOOC and NotsoSexy. Ah, who am I kidding? He's sexy all the time, but we love him smart. But I got that Grissom POV I promised and some of that GSR we all love and crave! And thank you for all the reviews so far! I'm closing in on my hundredth review! Who's gonna be that lucky person to bless me with such an honor?

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Chapter 16: Good Mornings

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Sara's POV:

A small glimmer of light flashed on and off before my now opening eyes as a unique – yet faint – smell tickled my senses. Burying my face deeper into the pillow – the source of said smell – I inhaled a full breath of air previous to exhaling.

_Waking up to the smell of Gil Grissom every day? I could get more than accustomed to that idea._ I thought with a gleeful smile on my face as I sat up with a stifled yawn.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I rubbed the last remains of my slumber out of my eyes when they flew to the alarm clock on the bed stand. Telling me true, it read that it was nearly noon – several minutes to spare.

Rising to my feet, I moved across the bedroom and out the door only to enter the hallway that I had to trek down to reach my destination – the living room and kitchen. Half way through the narrow hallway, the smell of fresh coffee assaulted my nose and mingled with the smell of Grissom I was savoring until then. And as I exited the hallway, the welcoming sight of Grissom on the couch that I'd last seen him on, casually sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper.

"Sleep well?"

Smirking, I went to pour myself a cup, only to find that a solitary cup – still steaming hot – sat in the center of the breakfast island. Still smirking at the courtesy Grissom expressed, I joined him on the couch.

"Better then well. I should be asking you how you managed on the couch. I would've been happy to take it or share the bed with you." I held back a blush knowing that we were two civilized adults that could handle sleeping in the same bed together without it necessarily being a sexual encounter. Or what I hoped. "The bed is certainly big enough."

"True..." Grissom commented before lowering the newspaper to inspect myself and my morning self. "But my Mother always did raise me to be a gentleman. Guests are to be welcomed, and never on the first night."

Curling up with my knees to my chest, I observed him as he observed me and lightly sipped my drink. "Of course, but I still felt guilty taking that bed to myself, knowing you were out here on this couch – when it's in _your_ home."

"No need to worry about that." Grissom finished in a tone that finalized that conversation. "I was just thinking... You'll need a ride back home at some point. When will that be?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me already?" I teased him lightheartedly.

Obviously not picking up on my humor, Grissom shook his head semi-vehemently to disagree. "Of course not! Why would I ever want to do that?"

After calming down from the short laughing spell, I couldn't help but lean over and lean on him after planting a kiss on his cheek chastely. "I was only joking Grissom... Don't worry, I know you didn't mean it like that. Anytime you're ready, I'm ready."

Relaxing, now realizing the mirth that'd been in my voice before, he laughed at himself for automatically assuming I'd taken it defensively. "After the coffee and I get ready myself, perhaps?"

"That sounds great."

Half an hour later, Grissom escorted me out to his car and pulled out of his townhouse's driveway and began down the road toward mine. About fifteen minutes to twenty minutes later, Grissom had pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex – Tudor Apartments. Parking in the visitor's spot next to my assigned parking spot, which was now occupied with my Lamborghini, it was now my turn to usher Grissom somewhere – into my apartment.

"I see Brooke found the time to return your car." Grissom pointed out as we entered my small and slightly cluttered apartment.

I simply hummed in reply, whisking off to get ready for work tonight and the time in between now and then – whatever that involved. "I'm just going to go get a shower now, I won't be a minute."

An amused smile crossed his face as Grissom looked up from inspecting my collection of books on the shelf. And though I knew that look he was wearing on his handsome face a little too well, I couldn't stop myself from thinking how even more irresistible he looked with it.

Turning around with both subtle embarrassment and amusement, I traveled the hall while calling back in a teasing voice. "Gentleman, huh?"

Just as I was about to enter the comfort of my air conditioned bedroom, I felt two broad and strong arms slip around my waist and hold me against their owner – a firm body.

"Never the first night, but this is the next day."

* * *

Brooke's POV:

I was in nothing short of excruciating pain when I woke up the next morning. The only think that I could relate closely enough to this pain was when I gave birth to Roxas, and that barely touched base with this pain. Any thoughts of my rejection of Taj that drifted through my thoughts were erased by the mind blowing waves of pain I received if I even _thought_ of anything.

My quick and initial scream of pain woke Roxas up with a fright. He knew a little too well that when someone screamed and scrunched their face up like I was, it meant something wasn't right. Immediately scrambling off of the small bed I slept on, he made his way to the door and with reaching arms, barely touched the knob enough to open it and amble out. Instead he returned with a tired and red-eyed Taj by the pant leg, babbling about something being wrong with me in rushed words that merged together.

The now subtle calls of pain I was giving off woke Taj up instantly.

"Guess you're not back on your feet after all." Was all he got out initially before he left to fetch a pair of Tylenol pills and a glass of water.

The pain from the welts left me irritable and a little more than sharp. As soon as Taj returned, I snapped at him about not being bitter about last night and my reaction to his show of affection. Sometimes men just don't understand, do they?

"That was how many years ago Brooke? How many? Let's count them just to clarify." Taj shouted as I still laid there in pain and awaiting the pills to work.

"It doesn't matter Taj! You're still the same person!" I argued back.

"How would you know! You haven't so much as given it an open minded thought! You haven't so much as made an effort to get to know me outside of work since... Since I don't know how long ago!" Taj countered, expressing his frustration with small pacing steps around my small room.

_What a perfect fucking morning to wake up to, huh?_ I thought to myself as the argument escalated and our voices rose.

It was only until Roxas intervened that we both realized how much we'd let this get out of our hands.

"SHUT UP!" If it was one thing he learned growing up in this household, it was the language. And to say the least, it wasn't something a normal toddler his age should know how to say and what it means.

A pissed off expression crossed his small and cherubic face as he glared daggers at both Taj and myself, his arms stiffly down by his side and forming tightly clenched fists on both of his small hands. It was almost like looking at a pissed off Alex, where Roxas had most likely picked up this stance. The adrenaline instantaneously exited my system and blood stream – which caused even being in the sitting position I had made it up to during our argument to be a dull pain now that the Tylenol was reacting.

Forcing myself on my feet despite the ache that overcame my entire body, I shuffled across the room, bumping roughly and on purpose into Taj – causing him to stumbling subtly. I kneeled down a foot away from Roxas, wincing at the pain in my legs now that I was applying pressure on them.

It was always at times like this when I was speechless, and they happened more often than I'd like to admit. "I'm sorry baby..." I muttered pitifully, lowering my head knowing that our roles seemed to be reversed where he was the adult and I was the child.

After a few moments, his small arms flew around my neck to embrace me tightly. This was always his way of forgiving someone. And though he touched and aggravated several of my wounds, I didn't seem to care as I embraced him as well, gaining help from Taj to stand back up with my son in my arms.

"I'm sorry too." Taj whispered to Roxas from behind me, shame coating his deep voice as he realized we were acting stupid. "C'mon lil' man, let's go out in the kitchen and grab something to eat. And bring in anything Mama needs."

Albeit a little reluctantly, Roxas traded arms with Taj and was now being held in Taj's broad and muscular arms. As I sat down on the bed now – almost instantly regretting it from the dull waves of pain – I realized Taj's sleep apparel more than it was called for. A white muscle shirt and khaki cargo pants with a belt buckle I'd bought him a long time ago. It amazed me he still owned and used that thing, in full honesty.

"Do you need anything?" Taj asked as he stationed himself on the threshold of my doorway.

Recognizing that I was actually being waited on, I slowly stood up and made my way out of the room, not wanting to shrivel down to such a pitiful and dependent state. "I can get my own things now. Thank you very much."

"Damn! No need to get all defensive. I was just trying to..." I quickly interposed any more talking from his mouth on that matter with my index finger to his mouth.

"Taj. Just don't talk to me right now. I'm in pain, I'm agitated, and I'm just me. I need to get coffee in my system before anything else. So just don't talk." I explained hastily before continuing my limping toward the kitchen, coffee on my mind.

Gradually lowering myself into the busted up kitchen table seat, I took a quick caution not to rely on its durability this time as my reflexes weren't quick enough to stand if the chair gave. Taj and Roxas soon joined me, next to me and on both sides. Roxas began to eat the cereal, already becoming accustom with using cold water instead of milk for his cereal.

_I really need to get this place in shape – for his sake as well as everyone else's._ I thought to myself as I saw him take in one spoonful after another before glancing across at me and giving me a wide smile. _Hell, I was supposed to be the only one that was forced to eat their cereal like that._

"You two settle things in there finally?" Jen's voice drifted from her bedroom as she walked out and into the kitchen.

"Sorry. Didn't realize we were getting that loud. Hope we didn't wake anyone that was sleeping." I answered, downing the rest of my cup.

"I was already awake, but you may have to make it up to these two little ones." Jen stepped aside to reveal two wide awake children by the name of Alex and Kylie.

The two children had become more than accustomed to seeing me in a beaten and battered form that my appearance hardly ever shocked them. That's why it worried me when I saw the disconcerted look in their eyes as they took in my present appearance. But placed aside until a later time, both children advanced swiftly to envelope me in a hug as I sat in my chair. At the sight of the active children, Roxas engulfed the rest of his breakfast without choking and clambered down to join them as they left to play in the living room.

"Shit Brooke, you look fucking awful." Straight and out right was how Jen put everything at this hour in the morning.

"I feel so uplifted by your encouraging comments, Jen, I'm not sure I could take much more." I said with a hidden growl of agitation in my throat as I gently rose to refill my cup.

"I'm just saying. You seriously look like you should be dead right now."

"Jen, I think she gets the point." Taj spoke up before I lost all of my cool.

"Sorry." Jen offered as she lowered her head.

"All that remains is how do we deal with these guys? You have a tendency to piss all the wrong people off, Brooke. I don't think these guys are just gonna forget about you." Taj pointed out as I managed to get back into my seat, feeling more and more pain slip away as the Tylenol took more of its effects.

Feeling the welts still burning across my body, my hand clenched even tighter around my mug, scorching my palm from the hot liquid inside. "If I see anymore of those bastards coming my way, I _will_ snap their necks in two with ease."

But just as Taj was about to speak up, he never got his chance as the children came running into the kitchen. "The Po-Po are outside! There's two of them walking up now!"

My eyes widened to the size of plate saucers. The three of us scrambled about our business. Jen placed all the dishes in the already cluttered sink while Taj assisted me to Jen's bedroom, my classic escape route for moments like these.

As Taj opened the bedroom window after closing the bedroom door, he helped me get outside the window, though with the anxiety coursing through my veins, I was perfectly capable of it by myself.

"Dammit Brooke, look what you've got yourself into now." Taj complained as I checked around the corner of the house at the cop car parked there.

The escape route was easy enough. From Jen's bedroom window, I was already behind the house in the "backyard" - which was only a small strip of land that filled the space between the house and the fence I had to jump to get into the neighbor's backyard. From there, I had to cut across to the fence that divided their yard from their backyard neighbor's. Then I only had to run around the house and onto the street for about a block until I hit a light pole that had a broken down and beaten up bike tied to it. I'd break the lock and ride it to wherever from there.

_Never kills to be prepared for times like this._

"Hey, why do you give a damn? It's not like it's you. You just make sure that you keep my baby and everyone else safe. Those cops won't be here for long, and I don't know where Eric is." I instructed as I popped the screen back into the window.

"I will. You just be careful, a'ight?"

"I'm a grown woman, Taj. I can look after myself." I replied snappily.

And with that, I took off.

* * *

Grissom's POV:

"Yes, yes, I'm fine! I promise you not a single thing is wrong with me." Sara reassured the man on the other side of the phone for what felt like the millionth time. "Greg, I swear to _God_ if you don't stop asking me that question, you'll regret it too soon."

I sat back on the couch with an amused smirk on my face, at how easily Sara could be pestered with over-worry, especially from a certain young CSI that had called her the most frequently between yesterday and today in regards to her health. It was all in good meaning, but Sara didn't seem to be taking it that way at this point – less than three hours until work and now trying to get in contact with Brooke once more.

And as much as I knew Sara was getting irritated with the constant calls she was getting out of worry – which was a result of care – I just couldn't find it in me to tell Greg directly to wait until she was in work. And the reason was because I knew that if I was in his shoes – not knowing what was going on with her – I would most likely be doing the same thing, or at least considering it if you factored in the reclusive side of me. But I wasn't in his shoes. I was right where I was meant to be and wanted to be – with her in her apartment.

_And it only took over fifteen years to get here, and this is only the beginning._ A taunting voice told me as I watched Sara pace through her living room, repeatedly telling Greg that she was okay.

Inwardly scowling, I knew that voice was correct, but it was hardly fair to say it like that. Yes, it had taken a great deal of time just to get past the point I was at before, but I was here nonetheless. Everything was as it was supposed to be. For one of the first times in a long time, it felt, I was happy. Truly happy, to be where I was, to be with who I was with, and I would do anything to keep this moment running on forever. Well, perhaps I'd fix it so that Greg wasn't on the phone with Sara, aggravating her with how much he cared about her, but that was beside the point.

Sara was with me and happy, or at least _was_ happy until Greg called in on her cellphone.

"Greg, that's it! You're going to make me run out of minutes and I need this phone available if I go to a crime scene. _And_ you're killing my battery!" Sara cut Greg off short, as I heard him rambling on the other line. "You're my good friend Greg, but my cellphone needs a rest, and so doesn't my ear! Goodbye Gre – Good... GOODBYE GREG!" Sara promptly said, with a laugh in her voice this time, and closed her phone. At least she left with a smile and laughing. "That kid can get so annoying."

"He means well." I defended the young CSI with a lighthearted smile.

"You're in a good mood." Sara said as she now placed herself next to me.

Taking a hold of her delicate hand, entwining our fingers firmly, I glanced down to take in the sight of our conjoined hands. "Right now, I would find it extremely strenuous not to be."

_You know you are in love when you see the world in her eyes, and her eyes everywhere in the world._ I recited the quote in my mind as I found my eyes locking with hers. _I'm in love._

True, I may have been leading Lady Heather on, and as horrible as that was, I can't say I regret it. I could hardly say that everything happens for a reason, but if it was true, then I wouldn't hesitate to do it all over again if it meant I would end up here every time. Even with Heather throwing her childish fit and tainting the woman's bathroom with chloroform. I didn't know it at that time, but as I recalled what I'd seen that night, the evidence that was plain as day left me without a doubt.

_Looking up into the growing crowd on top of the balcony, my eyes soon fixed on another pair of eyes, possessed with a fiery jealousy and hatred once they set upon the three of us on the shoreline. They were Lady Heather's eyes, and never before in my life had I felt nearly as fearful under the scrutiny of a woman as I did right now. _

"Sara! Damn, what happened?"

_Focusing now on the distressed young woman Sara had formally introduced as Brooke, she slid along the grass next to Sara's vacant side as I checked for a pulse. "I'm not sure. She just suddenly passed out without warning."_

Now I realized that I could've been receiving that look, or Sara could've been. Originally, I'd thought that I'd been the recipient because I was caught outside here with Sara instead of inside with Lady Heather. What did it matter to her, was what I thought at that moment. She had turned to flirt with the bartender once I'd bent down to "help" Brooke from her fall. But now, I realized that look could've been meant for Sara – at the whole situation in general – knowing that her plan had backfired terribly.

Feeling soft lips brush against mine, I dropped all thoughts on the matter, just grateful that everything was right as it should be. Sara wasn't harmed, I was elated to finally be at this point. _What more is there to ask for?_ I thought to myself as I deepened the kiss Sara had hesitantly started.

If anyone were to ask me to describe what I felt Heaven might be like, I would give them anytime I was kissing Sara Sidle. There was no word invented in any language nor were there any combinations of near perfect words to describe it. The way she ran her slender fingers through my hair as I cradled her face in one hand while the other occupied itself with finding the perfect residing spot on her hips.

Pulling back slowly, I quickly regretted it – the loss of warmth on my lips from hers and loss of contact all together. Not even bothering with hesitation anymore, I resumed the act with a hint more passion this time.

_All that's left now is to finish up my... case, and everything **will** be as it should be._ I said to myself.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

"Please be open, please be open..." I repeated over and over to myself as I peddled harder and harder down the street.

Making a tight turn down a dark alleyway, even in the daytime, I rode about halfway until I skidded to a stop, already jumping off the bike before it'd fully stopped and allowing it to go crashing into the wall. From the narrow strip of pavement that made up the alleyway, there was a rectangular gap that had a small staircase leading downstairs to a titanium metal door that protected "The Usual Spot". As I nearly tripped down the stairs, I banged on the door with my fists until it opened with a squeaking groan. Justin, the door's keeper, allowed my panting self inside, recognizing me on the dot.

"What the Hell happened to you? You look like Hell!" He remarked as I leaned against the wall to catch my breath.

"I seem to be getting that a lot today." I replied, finally finding the breath and energy to get off the wall and continue. "Is 'The Man' in today?"

"No, he hasn't been in yet." Justin informed me.

_How would you know? How does anyone know? The Man is a fucking shadow..._ I said with irritation in my thoughts at the news. "Are you sure? Did you buzz into the room?"

"Yup, buzzed him at least five times." Justin resumed his bodyguard like stance in front of the door. "He is strange, ain't he? He runs this Underground with an iron fist and no one even knows what he looks like."

"Tell me about it, try taking orders from him. You have to drop everything you're doing for your new jobs, and I mean everything." I said, blowing out an air of frustration. "And I'm his right hand girl, his go-to person in this whole gig."

"No sir." Justin said in disbelief. "And he doesn't even expose himself to you?"

"Nope, not once." I said, but suddenly realized why I was here to begin with. "Well, hey, will you relay a message to him whenever he gets in? Tell him there's gonna be a new guy at the Red Room on Tuesday night that's gonna be hyped up on some type of new drug. Tell him that I'll be there on that night but I'm gonna need some serious backup. Got it?"

"Memorized." Justin said as he reopened the door for me again.

We said our goodbyes and I got back on the bike, realizing I had to get outta the area fast. I had been tailed all the way there by a car and I only shook them by going down an alleyway. They were sure to be in the area still, and I don't need to get a cap up my ass. Or several.

"Wait! Hey, Brooke!" I heard Justin's voice call from the door just as I was about to take off.

"What?" I called back, peddling over to the stairs so I could peer down and see him.

Unexpectedly, a pair of keys flew up in my direction and I caught them, only to inspect them. "What's this?"

"One of the boss's delivery boys sent this down to me last night and said that the boss wanted me to give them to you. The message was, go down to Mike's Shop and tell him your name. Some kinda car, I guess." Justin reported. "Later."

With the door closing again, I took off to go down the other half of the alley, which would put me about a half block from Mike's Shop. It wasn't a place were we did a lotta business with our cars, so I was confused as to why 'The Man' would store a car there.

_Don't ask questions, just take the orders._ My mind reeled around that one phrase which seemed to be the basis for our entire organization. _Doesn't mean that the questions aren't there, though.

* * *

_

**TBC...**

A/N2: A'ight! Just do what you do people and I'll be a very happy author! Oh yeah, and as for all you realistic reviewers out there – ahem **stareagle** – no worries about the consequences about Brooke's fight. Everything catches up with a person in due time. :- Just be patient. It will happen. But until then, I'm out to continue writing! And if I don't update before the premire OF SEASON 7 BABY! WHOO-HOO! Go Grissom! Go Sara! It's your birthday! You gotta party like its your birthday! Oh sorry, you're still here. But if I don't update before then, happy viewing! Enjoy it my GSR lovers across the globe! I know I will be! Later!

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	17. Tournament Pt 1

A/N: Back with an update! AND I FEEL COMPLETELY ENERGIZED FROM THE SEASON PREMIRE! Whoo! I love my veggie burgers now! But now, alas and alack, we must wait for the second part this Thursday, and I feel the pain of the people who are not in the US to see the new season on their actual TV yet. So, this chapter is for those outta US people! Hope y'all enjoy it! I'm in love with the reviews so far! IN LOVE!

Disclaimer: Yeah. Me-eo, no ownie-o. Comprehendo?

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Chapter 17: Tournament Pt. 1

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Sara's POV:

"So, are you okay? Really and truly?"

"Greg!" Everyone else in the room yelled at poor Greg when he asked the same question he'd been asking since I'd entered the breakroom.

"What? I'm just worried, that's all." Greg turned to everyone and held his hands up in defense.

"Yeah, that's cool and all man, but damn! Every breathing second? That's too much, and we're only sitting here listening to it." Warrick claimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You must be driving Sara crazy over there."

"Just a little." I admitted, still unable to wipe the smile off of my face that'd been there since I left the house.

"So... You've been awfully smiley since you arrived. What happened to you?" Catherine posed the question, but had a knowing gaze in her blue eyes.

"Nothing." I replied simply. "Can't I just be happy for once and not be questioned about it?"

"Sure you can, but this is like a bi-polar change." Catherine said with confidence as she poured out the rest of her coffee over at the sink. "You normally come into work comatose like the rest of us... With the exception of Greg with his ADHD moments."

"Hey! Don't get jealous just because I'm able to bounce in the morning. Blame that one on time and age." Greg piped up from his corner of the room. Catherine shot him a look that could kill, shrinking Greg down to a minimized size. "Sorry ma'am."

"Catherine, are you abusing your CSI seniority here?" Grissom questioned as he walked into the breakroom with assignments in hand.

"I was doing no such thing." Catherine claimed, that knowing look resting on our supervisor now.

"Good. Now then..." Grissom cleared his throat. "Catherine... You have an assault out close to where the Police Ball was. At least twenty guys have been hospitalized and they all have a story to tell." Handing the blonde her assignment, underneath her breath, she sarcastically cheered to herself as she got up to leave. "Warrick? How's your B&E progressing?"

"Slowly." Warrick said with a dragged out sigh.

"All right. Nick? What your status on the DB close to Warrick and Greg's scene?" Grissom's eyes turned to Nick who sat next to Warrick on the couch.

"There's a probability that they're related, but I still can't say for sure there boss." Nick answered. "My DB is still a John Doe."

"Well, I don't have to tell you how to do your jobs. And Sara? I'm putting you in the lab today. After last night's incident at the Police Ball, I think you should take it easy today." Shock painted my face as Grissom turned to me.

"What? You can't stick me at desk duty! Can't I work with Catherine or Nick on one of their cases?" I fought with him, now as a subordinate to supervisor.

Before Grissom could respond to me, Nick raised his hand slightly as if he were a student in a classroom, presenting his hand to answer the teacher's question. "I could use a little assistance on my case boss. Sara could join me if you want."

Grissom looked as if he was about to retort with a definite no, but then something struck him. Apparently he was in a good mood as well, as if I didn't already know that to begin with. "Okay Nick... You can take Sara on your case. I'm still out on my own case, so if anyone needs me, cellphone or pager. Got it?"

Giving a quick nod in recognition of his words, we all took off for our individual cases, Nick filling me in on the case, victim, and crime scene. I was listening, but part of my mind was miles away back at my house.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

"Phew! Is this shit fo' real?"

Before my eyes was the most magnificent and majestic construction of metal and an engine that could be invented under this sun. A streetbike. Actually, correction, streetbikes. But not just any streetbikes. No... These two streetbikes were some of the best on the market, and one of them wasn't even on the market yet. A Suzuki GSX-R1000 and a 2001 Yamaha YZF R6, both souped up to their handlebars with brand new equipment not quite on the market yet either. And right now, my eyes were fixated on the Suzuki rather than the Yamaha.

"As real as your gonna get. Oh yeah, and your boss also left this note with me. Said to give it to you when you got here." Mike, the shop's owner, passed a plain piece of paper folded in half, my name scribbled on the front in cursive.

"I've been here since the morning, having to wait for all of your customers and shit, and now you're just deciding to give this to me? It's night now!" I scolded him as I snatched the paper away from his greased up hands, his fingerprints smudging against the paper.

Opening it, I began to read.

_Brooke,_

_Here's another toy that the people upstairs told me to present to you. Choose between the two – though if I were you, I'd go with the Suzuki – and then head down to the Underground. Talk to Justin to get the directions to the next location. But be cautious, Brooke. DIS's people – like you reported – are planning something much more diabolical than just half-assed drivebys. This location you're going to, I need you to be on your toes the entire time. For Blaze's safety, I've put him into hiding for a while – a shelter of sorts. So you will need to take someone else tonight. As your boss, I advise that person be Taj. And just for this once, I'm permitting you to bring your gun with you, though you most likely never listen to me in regards to your weaponry anyways. Report back in the morning on the events at this location, and good luck._

_- The Boss_

_P.S. Don't get too pissed off with Mike. I asked him to stall you._

_How does this man manage to do that?_ I asked myself internally, curious as to how he knew I'd be pissed off at Mike. _I've barely known him for a full year, and he already knows everything about me! Slightly creepy._

"A'ight... I be takin' that Suzuki there." I indicated the Sport Royal blue streetbike with the platinum rims.

"Nice choice. I'm gonna miss having this in the garage. That is a piece of art in motion, my friend." Mike let out a long whistle as he passed me the keys.

Sport Royal blue and it melted in swirls so that it seemed almost aquatic – a deep ocean on two wheels. Black leather lined the seat and was over the handlebars that I gripped firmly now, revving the four cylinder engine to warm it up. A tingling sensation ran through my body as I heard the engine rev over and over again.

_Well, that's never changed with me at least..._

Flipping up a secret cap on my right handlebar, I realized that a nitrous boost button had been generously provided with my new ride, and as I opened another concealed cap on the left handlebar, I saw a switch to change the license place if the need ever arose. And trust me, that need arose often.

Down on the hump between the seat and my handlebars, I noticed even more compartments on either side. A small black button labeled "storage" tempted my fingers, encouraging me to press it as it inched closer. Pushing the small button caused two compartments to fan out to present two more guns added to my arsenal and disposal. A glock and 9 millimeter pistol.

Taking them out of their holsters in my bike, I familiarized myself with my new weapons and checked to ensure that the clips were full.

_The Boss sure does know how to take care of his employees._ I thought with a smirk as I returned them to my holster.

"Thanks Mike." I said began to walk the bike out of the garage.

"What, you're not even gonna apologize to me for snapping at me earlier?" Mike asked as he leaned against the wall outside, watching me burn rubber in place as I revved the engine some more.

"Nope."

Now I took off for the Usual Spot again. But it was only when I was halfway there that I took a real realization to one part of the note The Boss had left. Blaze was in hiding and I needed a partner, and he'd suggested Taj. And everyone knew what The Boss meant when he "suggests" something; It means he wants it done. And he wants Taj to be my partner.

_Great. Just great._

Dropping by the Usual Spot, Justin greeted me and gave me the directions to a local chopshop near the Strip. Complimenting on my new ride as I left, Justin and I parted yet again with a little less casual talk than before. I began the drive back to Jen's house, hoping that Taj had kept his promise to me so I could save gas by not driving all the way to his house on the outskirts of town. From Jen's house to the destination was already polar opposites; Taj's house would be even more of a polar opposite.

Parking the Suzuki in the driveway, I looked up to see Alex and Kylie glued to the front window in fascination and awe as they ogled my new ride. Roxas was right in between them trying to see what they were so eye locked with but struggling because of his height. It only took a matter of seconds for the kids to come busting out the front door and make their way over to me and the bike as I dismounted it.

"Auntie Brooke! Where'd you get that streetbike! I wanna ride it!" Alex claimed excitedly as he bent down to inspect the engine.

"Yeah! Can we, _please_?" Kylie begged as she joined her older brother.

"Maybe later, you two... Right now, I've got business to handle, a'ight?" I told them with a soft chuckle as I hoisted Roxas into my arms.

"What moron decided to give you a streetbike?" Taj's deep voice called from the door.

Turning around to face the older man, I didn't so much as fake a smile. I was still slightly irritated with him. "That moron would be our boss." I responded. "And I've gotta talk to you... in private."

Walking over to the side of the house while Jen collected the kids and put them in the house, I waited for the sound of the door closing before I began talking. "A'ight. Here's what I know... The Boss has put Blaze in hiding for a while for his protection, and I'm needed at a location tonight. The Boss didn't say it directly, but I'm guessing that there's gonna be a team battle, and he wants you to fill in for Blaze. He 'suggested' it, and you know what that means. You're gonna whether you or I like it or not."

"A'ight... So where's this going down?" Taj said after crossing his arms over his chest.

"A chopshop near the strip."

"We'd better get going right now then. You driving or am I?" Taj asked, already moving to walk toward my new ride.

As hypocritical this was about to get in my mind, I couldn't stop myself as I took a hold of his wrist – no attempts to pull him back – and just held him in place. "Wait."

"What's up?"

Now came the difficult part of why I'd stopped him. I was so sure that Taj would try and amend things between us, but I suppose when he just asked who was driving that it became clear that he was going accept the destroyed relationship between us. And as much as I kept telling my mind that's what I wanted, that didn't back up what I was doing now.

"I..." Sighing, I inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry about this morning and snapping at you. Y'know... The whole argument. You're... right. I haven't given you a fair chance."

Everything that I was talking about now came into perspective for Taj as he moved closer. "Well, you're right. You haven't given me a fair chance. But you don't need to apologize." Now it was his turn to sigh. "How can I expect you too after all those years ago? I'm not sure _I've_ forgiven myself for that yet."

Neither of us spoke a word afterwards, just cleared our voices. "So..." Taj was the first to speak up. "Where do we take it from here?"

"Anywhere it takes us." I responded, throwing the keys over to him. "But for now, you have to take us to the destination. Work comes first, everything else second." Pausing, I thought about one part of the car that reminded me of the note. "Are you carrying?"

"I always am."

"Good." I said, advancing toward my bike. "I think we're gonna need it."

Releasing Taj's waist, I dismounted my bike after our journey across town to the location. Above a half an hour sitting in close contact with Taj like that... I wasn't about to say that I enjoyed it, but I can't say with a straight face that I disliked it either. Truth be told, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about him in general.

_Stop thinking about him... Job first, annoying and non-important thoughts second._

Very similar to the Usual Spot, you had to go down an alleyway before going through security at the door. The whole operation was held underground, their front being a boxing and kickboxing training building upstairs. It reminded me of Baxter's Place from my childhood days in Brooklyn – just a cover up for a much bigger and illegal operation. Some things in society just never changed.

My streetbike caught the wandering eye of several people passing by, most likely here to speculate the fights. And then, there was Taj and the wandering female eyes that seemed to pick him up like they had him on sonar. Before I knew it, I had linked arms with Taj and began to drag him away from the apparently "interested" girls. And from the looks of Taj's face before I began to lead him away from them, he truly _hadn't_ changed one bit. Still that same old player.

Then again, it wasn't like I wasn't receiving my share of eye locking guys that I could easily label as "my type", but at least I didn't engage or lead them on with my eyes. I knew the look in Taj's eyes as he stared back at each girl that turned their head his way. It was a, "Yeah, I might be interested in you too" look. I knew it too well.

Leading him into a uni-sex bathroom, I practically shoved him through the door and followed in after him, his back hitting the door first. Once we were enclosed in the comforts of the bathroom and I ensured it was empty, the first reaction he got out of me before an actual sentence was my hands landing on my hips and a sigh. "I've known some seriously messed up bi-polar people in my days, but you top them all off with a cherry on top."

"What?" Taj's brows creased with pure confusion.

"Oh, great... Now you're acting stupid! Another added bonus!" The sarcastic remark flew from my lips. "Please Taj... I may not have finished high school, but I am far from being a moron. So don't sit there insulting my intelligence as well as what little is left of yours." The bemused look upon his face annoyed me to no end now as he leaned against the sink's counter, awaiting further explanation. "I saw you making eyes with all those girls out there. And who was it just back at the house that was saying he had changed? It wasn't me!"

"What? Brooke, how can you limit me to nothing when we're not even going out? Why do you care if I look at girls or not?" A look of recognition slipped over his face, which actually began to make me nervous. "Is it because we're jealous? Feeling a little competition? Worried that I'll find someone and leave you alone?"

"NO!" I yelled as soon as he half finished the world "alone". "I could give a damn less who you look at! You could stare at guys' asses if you wanted to, I don't care. What I do care about is that you're sitting there saying you've changed when you can't even keep your eyes to one girl in this crowd!"

"Aw, ain't that touching. You care about some random broad out there that I couldn't give a rat's ass about." Taj said with an eye roll as he pushed himself off of the counter. "You know what? I'm not even bothering anymore... I saw a lotta guys turning their heads in your direction too."

"Yeah, but I didn't even give them the time of day!" I defended with the truth.

"Whatever Brooklyn... Why don't you just go sign us in? I need to use the bathroom." Taj said nonchalantly as he entered one of the stalls.

Turning and storming out, the bathroom door slammed against the wall it was attached to with me heading off toward the Bet Taker – the man who took all of the money in regards to people's bets on who would win. After announcing Taj and I were here, I was drawn to the prize vehicle which would be awarded to the winner of this tournament. A Hummer H3. Not worth me riding, but I figured I could sell it off for money. All I knew for certain was that I was getting the cash prize of $200,000.

Still, I had to hand it to the car... It wasn't bad structure wise, it just wasn't my style. I was built for speed, not brawn – car wise. Focusing on the car so I could get my focus off of Taj, I didn't even notice when Rai, from D.I.S.'s group, approached me from behind, his powerful and tanned arm slipped around my waist to pull me closer.

"Like what you see, huh Brooke? Well, it's a good thing I'm taking this car home with me tonight, so I guess that means you're coming with me." It was a statement and not a posed question.

I had to admit, Rai wasn't necessarily bad on the eyes in my book, but he was arrogant as all Hell – as if that wasn't obvious. Rai had a skin color of a native Puerto Rican and the muscles of a body builder. Russet brown eyes and jet black hair that would be perfect for running your fingers through, and a cute baby face as well.

"Nah, you're not really my type, Rai. Because I'm gonna be the one to take both of these home tonight." Taj's voice called as he now took a hold of me by my waist, replacing Rai's tree truck arm, and pulling me away from Rai.

"Taj! I thought Blaze was supposed to be here tonight." Rai said in pure disbelief, with a hint of anger.

"Brooke here decided it was time to get a real fighter on her side instead of Blaze, so naturally, she called me." Taj said, locking glaring eyes with him.

"Hah... Real fighter, huh? By the end of this tournament, I think you just might lose a few teeth _and_ your girlfriend to me, brah." Rai claimed with a sneer.

As much as I was pissed off with Taj at this moment, nothing set me off worse than someone thinking they can _own_ me. That's what provoked my next action and words.

"Rai, you're gonna have some difficulty with both of those things." I claimed as I rotated into Taj and captured his lips with mine in a deep and apparently passionate kiss.

The moment Rai stalked off, frustrated and red faced with anger, I broke apart immediately from Taj who looked like he'd just died and went to Heaven. For once in my life, I felt speechless myself, but lucky for me, I recover quickly. I made my way to the ring, as the first match was up in two minutes, shoving Taj aside with one hand as he blocked my way in his dazed state.

"Don't stand there looking stupid all night, Taj. We have a tournament to win." I called over my shoulder with a curt tone.

**TBC...

* * *

**

A/N2: Sorry, I know there wasn't any GSR in this chapter. I'm sorry! In fact, I know, I was developing my OC people more than anything else! I'm sorry, once again! Please don't hate me! I can only promise it's not the end of GSR! Never. But I mean, y'all can stand my OC characters right? Y'know, Taj, Brooke, Jen, ect. Ect.? Right? Well, I'm gonna get that update up as soon as I get some reviews, so... You know what to do.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	18. Tournament Pt 2

A/N: Well, I see the last chapter was a dead beat. Maybe this chapter will stir some of you sitting corpses sitting in your computer chairs? C'mon, I've already got up to chapter 24 done now! But at any rate, I'm still happy about getting reviews at any rate, so I'm gonna sitting at home moaning and complaining. Nervous biting of the nails? Yes. Complaining? No.

Disclaimer: Pfft. I can hardly say I own much, so how can I actually own these wonderful characters?

* * *

Chapter 18: Tournament Pt. 2

* * *

Sara's POV:

"Sara?" A voice called to me, in the distance. "Sara!" The voice came closer. "SARA!"

"Huh?" I turned in the stool I sat in, still holding a photo from the crime scene Nick had presented to me. I still couldn't believe the resemblance.

"You've been staring at that same picture for over ten minutes..." Nick stated with that brotherly concern he had for everyone in this lab. Well, almost everyone, I decided when an image of Hodges invaded my mind. "Is everything all right?"

"Y-yeah... I'm fine." I stuttered at first. "It's just... you said this is still a John Doe, right?"

Nick hummed a yes, that look still in his eyes. "Do you know the vic?"

"I think I might, but I'm not sure." A lump formed in my throat at the very thought of it being him. "We've been best friends since I was about eight... But I haven't seen him since I was about sixteen or seventeen." That face, the cold dead baby blue eyes that stared up at me through the picture... It looked exactly like him. "Teague James, but we used to call him Taj."

_I think I just began to believe in the Doppleganger theory. _I thought to myself, hoping the man in the picture was not one of my life long best friends.

On the vic, the white T-shirt was ripped to expose a well-defined torso that spoke of countless hours of toning at the gym and then some. Between the time out in the sun and his African American heritage, the man in the picture had a semi-dark skin color and complexion to him. A short Caesar cut sculpted the jet black hair on top of his head and a very light mustache on his upper lip told of his young age – an adult but yet still an adolescent. Electric blue eyes that were glazed over with the look of death in them as they sat in a baby face that was identical to Taj's, from what I remember of him now.

For my sake, as well as Brooke's, I wished with every square inch of my heart that this man wasn't Teague James. If it was, my heart wouldn't be the only one that would be broken by the news. Growing up, even though Brooke would never admit to it, she was in love with the guy. There wasn't a girl in Brooklyn that wasn't in love with him. I was one of his best friends, and even _I_ thought he was hot. It was something about those eyes of his and his baby face that attracted all the women, young and old. Taj was the kind of kid who had the looks at eleven to make a newly turned eighteen-year-old woman cry at the fact that she was now an adult instead of a minor. And even at the age of five, Brooke was sucked into the large group of "Teague James" groupies.

There was only one definitive way to determine whether or not this man was in fact Teague James, or just a lookalike. The tattoo on his hip. Our group's symbol.

Shooting up from my seat, I exited the layout room without warning, leaving a baffled Nick behind to stare after me as I made my way to Doc. Robbin's domain. I received several looks of interest as I navigated the halls at a pace in between a power walk and a jog. The familiar and cold hallway I entered in a matter of minutes announced that I was close to the coronary office, and as I turned left down the next hallway, I saw the familiar double doors that provided entrance to the office.

Peering ahead to ensure Doc. Robbins wasn't already with one of my co-workers, I saw him filling out paperwork at his small desk, a look of boredom written clearly across his face. Just like everyone else in this building, just the mention of paperwork already had one yawning in boredom – Dr. Robbins was no different.

_Might as well give him a minute's rest while I get the answer's I need._

"Doc?" I announced my presence as I pushed the doors open.

Turning in his chair, he sent a pleasant smile my way and seemed grateful for the temporary distraction from his paperwork. "Sara, what can I do for you?"

"The John Doe on Nick's case, did you notice a particular tattoo on his right hip during your prelim?" I questioned with an eagerness in my voice.

Shuffling through a mass of papers on his desk, Doc. Robbins retrieved a folder in the midst of it all and flipped it opened. Inside it revealed his notes on the DB and several photographs of defensive wounds, the heavy bruising around the face and torso, as well as several identifying tattoos on various parts of his body such as the shoulders and forearms. Though there was none of a small tattoo on his right hip, which would have made it easy for me to distinguish whether it was my friend or not.

I released a sigh of relief I hadn't even known I was holding until now, and looked down at Doc. Robbins who had been observing me since he pulled out the file. "You all right now?"

"I'm fine. Thanks Doc." I said as I left him to return to his paperwork.

"Sure thing Sara." He mumbled back.

With a less urgent expression in my steps, it took a little longer to get back to the layout room than it did for me to arrive at the morgue. I was met with an expectant Nick Stokes still where I last saw him. "So, is it your friend?"

"No, it's not." I replied as I reclaimed my vacated seat. "Just a lookalike."

"That's good." A genuine smile crossed his lips as he continued to examine more evidence he'd removed from the evidence vault. "Wouldn't want to put you on desk duty because of Conflict of Interest on a case. Which I'm surprised Grissom didn't say no when I offered. I'm telling you, that guy is an enigma beyond reason."

"He was just in a good mood tonight I guess." I was careful not to reveal anything in my tone. "There's nothing wrong with that."

_After this afternoon, it would be a miracle if either one of us were in a bad mood._ I thought privately to myself.

As I looked over now, I saw Nick staring at me with that knowing gaze that Catherine had sported earlier. "Uh huh..."

"What?" I asked, practically challenging him to find something wrong with my previous statement.

After a moment or two, Nick shook his head with a smirk. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Ignoring his behavior, I turned back to my work, not wanting to weigh out the possibilities that my and Grissom's good moods had surfaced any suspicions among our co-workers. It was too soon, and we hadn't even discussed when we were going to announce our relationship, if we were going to. Virtually, nothing was definitive in this relationship just yet.

A sudden chill over came me, and I shook in my seat silently. In it's aftermath, it left me with an uneasy feeling as if something was right or as if something bad was about to happen. Claiming myself crazy, I continued my work pushing the feeling to the far back reaches of my mind.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Twisting out of my captor's death tight embrace, I ran across the ring to where my opponent's partner had Taj pinned down in a painful leg submission, a look on Taj's face saying that he was half considering submitting. Appearing to make it just in time, I landed a solid blow to the man's side, knocking him off of Taj temporarily.

Leaving Taj to tend to the other opponent, I charged after "House" as he was dubbed, the man I'd just kicked down. Snatching him by his plaid hillbilly shirt, I forced him to his feet before I pulled him into a hard grapple, but getting no further than that. He was too heavy to throw over my shoulder or anything like that, and if I wasn't careful, he could reverse the grapple so that he could throw _me_ over his shoulder. Instead, I opted to lead him running into the metal bars that lined the ring while he was still in a dazed and hurt state. House's midsection collided with the cold steel as he leaned over it helplessly, prompting me to run up behind him while his back was still to me and jackhammer my feet into his back to ram him even further into the bar.

_For his sake, he better hope his stomach is just on that bar._

Front flipping a foot away from him, my feet landed square in the middle of his back and I used his back as a platform to jump back into a backflip to land again. I was satisfied when I heard him groan in pain just before throwing up whatever food or drink he had before this match.

_I bet you feel a hundred pounds lighter, don't you Big Boy?_

Walking up beside him, I turned to the crowd as I fisted a clump of his dirty blonde hair in my fist and riled them up even further than they were before, lifting House's head just slightly above the metal bar. When the cheering became overwhelmingly loud, I smashed his forehead down into the bar, knocking him out. There was a deafening wave of cheers as House fell to the floor. But I soon found out that it wasn't me they were cheering for – or at least not entirely for.

Twirling around now, I saw Taj pulling out one move after another on Jitz, a wrestler and submissioner. I was momentarily caught in awe by Taj and how he gradually took down the oversized wrestler with ease. The way he evaded Jitz's grapples by backflipping and then retaliating with a round house to the face. As Jitz stumbled backwards, I saw the perfect opening for our signature closing move.

Whistling and then calling out Taj's name, we only managed a quick look at each other before I sprinted toward him. Taj lowered to the ground in a crouching position so that when I approached him, I stepped up on his shoulders as he launched me up into the air as he jumped up into the air. On my flight up, I managed to make contact with Jitz's chin with my bent knee, front flipping before I touched the floor. From there and while Taj was already preparing another round house for Jitz, I swung my legs around in a break dancing style to trip Jitz backwards before pulling my body backwards into a backroll to escape Jitz toppling on me as he fell back, unconscious.

Getting to my feet, Taj and I stared down at the wrestler's still body with disgust before walking out of the ring.

"Whoo! Hello? Anyone alive in there? Guess not." The announce said with a laugh over the loudspeaker.

"Not bad, Brooke." Taj complimented as we entered the bathroom once more, washing off the blood from our faces.

"Thanks, but I already know I'm good." I replied, still in a sour mood toward him.

Splashing water over my face, I washed the spilling blood from my lip and a minor scratch just below my eye in one swipe. As I looked up into the mirror, I saw Taj's reflection behind me leaning up against a stall door with a smirk on his lips. The same lips I'd kissed just twenty minutes before.

_Don't even go there, Waters. You're supposed to hate him right now, not love him._

But that didn't change the fact that he was looking cute standing there with his arms across his chest and his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and seduction. But that wouldn't work under no circumstances. Never. Not now, not ever.

"You weren't bad yourself out there. I see you can still hold your own, somewhat." I allowed to slip out, diverting my eyes from his in Taj's reflection.

"I always have been able to hold my own." He remarked, pushing off from his spot and moved up next to me. "I've also been able to hold down a lot more than myself too."

Pivoting toward him, I placed my hand against his chest and pushed him back. "You've pushed it once, and now you're pushing it again. Don't make me have to turn you into my next opponent, Taj. You _will_ get hurt."

"Listen Brooke. Why can't we just try it out again? Last time, I was an idiot." Taj took my hand with his.

"You've got that damn straight." I said as I yanked my hand away from him. "And there won't be an 'again' for us. There's not even an 'us'. There's just me and you. That's the way its always been, is now, and will be forever more." I made my trek for the door. "So, you better wise up to that fact boy, because you need to start living in reality."

The door closed and I suddenly regretted it all.

* * *

Sara's POV:

"Hey Sara." Catherine greeted me in the hallway on the similar track toward the breakroom.

"Hey Cath." I returned the polite gesture.

"So..." This was her classic line opener anytime she wanted to get something off her chest. "You and Grissom sure came in with good moods. What's been going on in your life since the Police Ball incident?"

"Nothing much." I kept my cool under the blonde's scrutiny that she usually only reserved for the hardcore criminals. "Just the usual. I caught an episode of Forensic Files on Court TV last night for the first time in a while." It wasn't entirely far from the truth. I _had_ watched Forensic Files last night. Just not by myself like I normally did.

"Uh huh. That's good. Did you watch it alone or did you have company?" Catherine probed without getting exactly to the question she and I both knew she wanted to ask.

"Catherine, please don't run this game. Ask what you really wanna ask." I said, stopping in the middle of the hallway and facing the older woman.

"Are you and Gil seeing each other now?" _Would that have been so difficult to ask without the mind games she was trying to play?_

"No." I lied steadily. "We're friends and colleagues, Catherine. Nothing more and nothing less."

"Hmm... What a shame. And I was about to congratulate you with an 'about damn time'." Catherine said with a still knowing tone. She wasn't convinced.

"I guess you'll just have to reserve that for someone else." I replied before continuing on my trek toward the breakroom. But there was just a certain look on Catherine's face after I began to turn that caused me to stop mid-turn. It was a look of guilt now. Her confident facade had fallen off the face of the Earth and was replaced with its polar opposite cousin. "What is it Catherine?"

"Umm..." Hesitation didn't reassure me of what was bothering her would be a necessarily good thing in my regard. "You may run into a few people that may be congratulating you now..."

After that moment, everything I'd previously been thinking of – Nick's coffee order as well as mine – was washed away like sand in the undertow from the waves back in California. I didn't want to stand around long enough to get a definitive answer on what exactly she meant. As a matter of fact, I just wanted to forget what she'd just said completely.

_Not even two full days into our relationship and rumors are already being spread off of assumptions. Just great. _

Thoughts swarmed in and out of my head as I followed the routine path to the breakroom. _What about when word gets to Ecklie? What about our jobs? Will one of us have to transfer just to continue our relationship or will we be forced to end it?_

All of the thoughts that Grissom most likely had thought up and was cautious about before we established our relationship swarmed through my head like a hive of bees who's nest had been disturbed. The thought was rather unsettling, to tell the truth. I suddenly began to understand Grissom's hesitation in the beginning. I loved my job too, and I could easily choose Grissom over it, but still. It's the fact. That reputation of "sleeping with the boss" would stick with me no matter what, no matter what lab I went to next.

_Damn you Catherine. Damn you and your gossip._

I stopped myself mid-stride and forced myself to lean against the wall just around the corner from my destination. _Calm down Sidle. Word hasn't even reached Ecklie yet and you're already taking this to the extreme extent._

Part of me wanted to call Grissom right now and inform him of the latest piece of gossip running through the Rumor Mill of the lab, and most likely the PD by now. And then the other part of me said that it could wait and that he didn't need to be stressed out by this rumor like I was right now. And then the final part of me just wanted to just go around to every person in this building and say that anything they'd heard in regards to Grissom and myself was completely and absolutely false.

But then again, that wouldn't be the most sane course of action, now would it? I would come off as paranoid and that would only enforce they're thoughts that Grissom's relationship with me was factual.

_Just let tonight be over with already, please..._ I begged as I got up from my spot on the wall and continued into the breakroom. _Black, no sugar. Cream and sugar. Black, no sugar. Cream and sugar. Black, no sugar..._ The mantra repeated in my head like a bad nursery rhyme.

Midway through the second cup, Nicky's cup, Bobby Dawson took the liberty of entering the breakroom that had until then only been occupied by me. He sent me a kind smile as he approached the coffee machine, my own makeshift smile being sent back in return.

"So, Sara? I heard you and Grissom finally got together, huh?" His southern voice quickly asked as he took his first sip.

"That's a complete rumor Bobby. Please tell me you didn't join the Rumor Mill and spread that around." I had already expected Bobby to say his piece before he even said it.

A sheepish look crossed his face as he set his cup down and ran his hand through his overly curly hair. "I _may_ have contributed to it, but it was only to Archie. He can be trusted, right?"

I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought of how far the rumor had gotten now. With no offense intended to the audio/visual technician, he had as big a motor mouth as Catherine when he wanted to and would only refrain if someone of higher authority told him not to say a word. And I could say confidently that someone of a higher power had come around to tell him not to say a word, and Bobby hardly qualified as a higher authority.

Exiting the breakroom, it suddenly occurred to me about Nick's look and why it had replicated Catherine's from when shift first started. Word must've also gotten to him.

_Nick wouldn't dare spread a rumor without consulting with the person in question first._ I thought with a reassurance to myself as I made my way back toward the layout room.

"Nick... Please tell me you haven't heard that rumor yet about Grissom and me." Was my greeting to the Texan as I entered the room again.

Looking up from a picture he was examining under a magnifying glass, now observing me under the glass. Lowering the magnifier from his eye, he put on one of those smiles that spoke all the words he couldn't.

"You didn't spread it, did you?" I asked with a pleading look in my eyes now.

"Of course not, Sar! I would never do that before finding out if it was true or not first." Nick was quick to defend himself. Then a disconcerted expression crossed his looks. "So is it true?"

For some odd reason, I couldn't lie right away. Not with Nick. Blame it on his look of innocence or the fact that we were on a level of friendship that touched base with a sibling type one, but I couldn't lie to the man. Or at least, not right away. "No, it's not."

Now a look of disbelief replaced the almost bashful expression. "C'mon Sar... Everyone has known since you showed up that you and the boss have had a thing for each other." A smile lit up his face when he caught the slight blush I gave away on accident. "I, for one, would be happy for you two. If anyone deserves a chance at happiness, it's you two."

"You mean you wouldn't judge us if we were?" I questioned as I sat next to him, handing him his coffee.

"What right would I have to judge your relationship? Of course, if Grissom was acting up and not treating you anything other than a princess, _then_ I might just have to step in..." We shared a laugh between each other. "So it is true then?"

Reluctantly, I gave a nod of my head, deciding that if I was going to be truthful with anyone, it would be Nick. "Yeah... Promise not to tell anyone?"

"I wouldn't even dream of it." A victorious smile rounded its way onto his lips now. "But why would you think that I, or anyone, would judge you for your relationship with Grissom?"

"Isn't that obvious?" I awaited his reply, which was a shake of his head. "People would get the wrong impression if they knew only the basic facts: I'm sleeping with the boss."

"Well of course when you put it like that, it's gonna sound wrong. But it's nothing like that." Nicky shook his head vehemently. "Anyone with eyes can see that it's not like that."

His words seemed to almost lifted a weight that'd placed itself on my shoulders, comforting me with his thoughts. "Thanks Nick." I said sincerely.

"Anytime, Sar. Oh, and by the way..." I turned to him when he left the sentence in the air. "I already told Archie not to spread the rumor around... No worries about this reaching Ecklie."

Sometimes, the people I work with are godsends.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Swinging my arms back and forth with balled up fists attached at the end, I laid haymaker after haymaker punches into my opponent's face. It was the only thing I could do to keep alive at this moment. I've had my hands tied since Taj mysteriously dropped out of this match. It was a two-on-one fight and they weren't willing to even set me up with another partner.

_I'm getting my ass beat._

I had things under control at the moment, but these matches are never predicable. They always are changing tides. And my change of tide had only occurred when I picked up a baseball bat someone had thrown inside the ring and I momentarily knocked my current opponent's partner unconscious. I could sense the downed man, Stix, already stirring back to life behind me as I laid punch after punch into Mack.

And while it looked like I had this match under my belt already, I was one step away from passing out. This was the third match I'd gone through, and the second match I'd gone through by myself. The last match, Taj resigned and left me to fight on my own. This fact, all on its own, pissed me off and fueled my adrenaline to keep going, but one could only go on for so long.

Mack made a miraculous come by as I was about to pull a knock out move on him by reaching out and clenching my fist into his rather large hands. A wave of sharp pain ran up and down my arm and shoulder as he practically crushed my hand by squeezing it. It was a little bit like playing Mercy with a professional body builder, I figured as he forced me to my knees. The haziness took the liberty to settle in, causing me to give up faster than I would've originally.

The rumble in the ground as I felt the approach of Stix, Mack's partner, did nothing to reassure I had a victory under my belt. The moment I felt the boulders for arms the man had wrap under my left arm and neck like a seatbelt, I knew this match was going to them unless I pulled something out of my ass like magic.

_Please Taj... Help me._ I thought hopelessly as I felt Stix hoist me into the air in the position he had me in, and Mack took a hold of my legs to stretch me out. _Please help me._

The stretch of my body had me writhing in pain, but when Stix actually tossed me toward Mack while Mack was still holding onto my legs, my stomach became queasy at the thought of what their combo was. It became oblivious clear as went flying into the ground from him slamming my body into it as if I were a pick being used to mine gold. From that position, he swung me around in a circular formation and released so that I rammed into his partner, who was obviously expecting it as he latched onto my shirt and whirled me around his body as if I were a basketball and released me to go flying into the metal bar sidings.

My back collided with the bars as I dropped to the floor, barely moving. I made feeble attempts to cling to the bars to hoist myself back up at least into a sitting position. Each one failed miserably, leaving me still as a pile of worthless meat. A pile of worthless, useless, and unsuccessful human.

I felt the two men looming over me, watching for anymore movements from me. If I moved, they'd kill me and if I didn't, I'd be giving up. The pride in me wouldn't settle for just giving up and yet getting killed wasn't such a great option either. Up the creek without a paddle.

"Do you give up yet, bitch?" Stix questioned with a snarl as he bent down to my level, snatch me upwards by the collar of my shirt.

"Fuck you, _puta_." I whispered hoarsely before spitting blood into his face.

Snatching me up and forcing me on my feet, he placed the back of my neck against the top bar of the three sets of metal bars, pressing his protruding forearm firmly against my throat, cutting off my airway. The more I struggled, the more he applied pressure. Mack assisted his partner by pinning my arms along the metal bar I was pinned against.

"Give up now or I will snap your neck like a pretzel stick." He threatened, pulling out a taser from his backpocket and pressing it into my stomach.

"Turn it up all the way, bitch! Turn it up!" I yelled at him, rising up against his forearm.

The electrifying waves coursed through my entire body when he pulled it up to one-hundred volts and pulled the trigger on the stun gun. All of my muscles contracted as I took every wave of electricity without a cry of pain. Frustration was written clear as day across Stix's face at the fact that I wasn't succumbing to the pain I was obviously feeling. Tears formed in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. A scream of pain nestled into the back of my throat, but I made sure that's where it stayed.

_I don't know how much more I can take._

When Stix dropped the stun gun and fell to the floor, Mack soon joining him on the floor next to him, I didn't fully register who was to thank for saving me. Black lines raced across my eyes blurring and obscuring my vision, but I soon discovered that it had been an observer who had driven a screwdriver through both of their ankles.

For a moment in time, I was afraid I would actually join them on the floor and it would be a tie, so to speak. I was in between a conscious state and unconscious. Too many blows to the head had left me barely able to see an inch in front of my face, if able to see at all. This was the most vulnerable state I had possibly been in my entire life. I was like a newborn left to fend for itself with no help at all. You might as well have slapped a diaper on my ass and shoved a bottle in my mouth and told me to suck at this point. But somehow, I still managed to pull myself up to lean against the railing in a better position than my slumping one had been. And though I couldn't see a damn thing, I still looked out into the crowd, pumping them up for the event.

"And it looks like we have our winner! Just barely though." The announcer spoke into the microphone as I stumbled out of the ring.

_Last fight... Against Rai and his partner. Great. I'm gonna get killed. _

**TBC...**

_**

* * *

**_

A/N2: So there you go... Please, review? Please? I'm not asking you to commit federal offenses for me here, or confess an undying love for me! Just a simple review! Please?

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	19. Unconsciousness & Pizza Palor

A/N: Ummm... Sorry for not updating for like... a month? Hmmm... I'd be lying if I said this chapter took me long to write. I kinda just forgot to put it up. :-S... Well, here's an update for yah! & Yeah boy! 100 reviews on the dot! Sorry Chloe, that you weren't the 100th, but you were the 99th! That's pretty special too:-D Well, read & review, PLEASE!

Disclaimer: Not mine. End of story. Goodnight.

* * *

Chapter 19: Unconsciousness & Pizza Palors

* * *

Sara's POV:

I was now aimlessly wandering the halls just for something to do. I could only take sitting in the breakroom watching Nick and Warrick play their football video game for so long until it not only got monotonous, but ear splitting as the scores increased between the two with their cheers and screams. I was walking to prevent the oncoming headache and also to pass the time while I waited for several test results to come in, and for the end of shift to eventually come.

When the question of what time it was crossed my mind, I was conveniently positioned right in front of Grissom's closed office door. Jarring the door open, I got a small surprise by hearing his "office guard dog" begin to sing right above the doorway. Laughing inwardly at myself for jumping, I flipped on the light on the adjacent wall to avoid squinting at his clock to read it.

_Not even close to end of shift. 2:00 a.m._

Shutting off the light and about to exit the empty office, I was only caught off guard when Grissom appeared to magically spawn from nothingness to directly in front of me. Though from the look on his face, I could tell that he wasn't particularly searching for me, but access to his office.

"Griss!" I greeted in light shock. "Back so early or did you just forget something?" I inquired with a smirk.

"I forgot something..." Grissom replied, slidding past me and into his office, switching on the light that I'd just turned off. While rummaging around through his desk's drawers, he seemed to be in an almost frantic hunt for his lost object. "Where is it...?"

"What are you looking for, Griss? Maybe I can help you find it..." I offered, approaching his desk as he began going through his papers next.

Hastily coming up with a lone piece of paper, I saw his blue eyes glide over its contents before he folded it up and placed it in his pant pocket. "Thank you for the offer, Sara, but I believe I managed."

"Don't you always?" I said slyly, actually and fully acknowledging his presence for the first time.

Halfway through replacing everything back into its original spot, he stared up at my approaching self. His blue eyes quickly flashed over to his ajar door before resting back on me now that I stood less than an inch away from him. "Sara... I thought we agreed... Not at the lab. It's too risky."

"I know." I said in response to his extremely light admonishing tone. Checking outside of the door as well, I pitched my voice lower than it was before. "Rumors are already flying around the building about us..."

Grissom didn't even have to speak a sound, let alone a word to get across the message that his eyes were relaying. I held up my hands defensively, begging for a chance to explain.

"Catherine... You know how she gets with her assumptions, and apparently, since we both came into work with our unusual happy moods, I suppose that warranted the idea about a relationship between us to be true." I went on. "You trained her too well as a CSI, you know that?"

A solemn look from Grissom was given. "What can I say? I wanted her to use her powers for good, though, not evil."

"Well... I managed to get her to believe my lie that we're _not_ together, and I corrected Bobby Dawson, and Archie in A/V. But..." Grissom's relieved looked was short lived when I added the "but" in there. "Archie told Nick, and I just couldn't lie to him. Sorry..."

It took Grissom a while, but when he finally responded, relief washed over the both once again, restoring peace. "I suppose, out of all the people you could've been truthful with – besides myself that is... I'm glad it was Nick." His smile returned. "I applaud you on your judgment."

Hastily planting a soft kiss on his lips, I blessed him with the smile he told me he loved so much. "Thanks... I'll see you at the end of shift."

And with that, I left him smirking inside of his office on how I'd still managed to sneak a kiss out of him before he'd even known I had.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

I fell to the floor as I entered the bathroom, my hands barely breaking my fall. I still couldn't see, and after much begging and compromising with the announcer, I allowed him to give me a five minute rest. Though I wasn't counting on my rest to be on a bathroom floor, barely conscious, I figured it to be better than nothing.

With trembling arms, I raised my upper body off of the tile floor. Just as sturdy as my weakened legs, however, they quickly gave way and I was right back where I started. Ground level, literally.

Thoughts swam in and out of my head like clown fish playing in a sea anomie. Where the Hell was Taj, and why the Hell had he practically left me for death? Was I truly going to die? Why did this floor _smell_ so bad? And what in the Hell was that stain directly next to my face?

I tried to make light of the situation as much as possible, but as the healing welts began to split back open from simply breathing in and out, I found that task growing increasingly difficult. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, collecting my energy to at least make it to the sink to lean on that to stand up. The small welts on my knees were cooled and burned at the same time as I forced myself onto my hands and knees against the hard and cold tiles of the bathroom.

_God, I feel like I'm about to be sick._

Swallowing the nausea down, I jerked myself to my feet, steadying myself after staggering slightly and then continuing to staggering over to the cracked and dirty sink. I was haunted by a hollow look in my face as I glanced up at the cracked mirror.

"_Eventually, you're gonna get yourself killed."_ Jen's words drifted through my ears in a haunting echo. _"And you're gonna leave a lot behind."_

The contents of my stomach spilled into the sink, it burned my throat both in the process and in the aftermath. And of all the convenient timing in the world, just as I was finished and began washing my mouth out to rid the awful taste, Taj walked in. For once, I turned my head away in humiliation.

"Brooke." No sympathy, just an acknowledgment of my presence.

"Screw you." I blurted out, looking at him as straight as I possibly could. "Screw you, Teague Allah James. Just straight up, screw you."

There was no offended expressions, just the scoff as he turned away to face the door with his arms crossed against his chest. "Dammit Brooke, y'know..."

Leaning with one hand on the sink, I turned my body toward him as much as possible, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "No! Shut the Hell up and listen for a damn second!" This was far from admonishing him, this was even past scolding. "You're practically leaving me for dead out there! And all over what? Because I won't give you a second chance? Guess what dumbass! There won't be a chance if I die out there! Ever think of that?!"

Twirling back to meet my intense gaze, he managed to get nothing out – not even a squeak. Now, it was as if he was finally taking in the extent of my injuries.

"Seems kinda childish that you'd leave me to die just because I won't give you a second chance, when you clearly don't even deserve it." In the split person I was with Taj, the side I _didn't_ want to show right now was shining in the limelight.

"I'm not leaving you to die, Brooke!" Taj hollered back.

Another dizzy spell hit me, but I held my own. "Like Hell!"

"Dammit Brooke! Can't we get through one encounter without fighting? Just once?!" Taj's hurried steps over to where I stood had me wanting to back up, but in my condition, I was in no position to make sudden movements. "Because if we can't, I'm not sure I can keep contact with you! I can't take the constant fights we have! It... It kills me." Taj's voice softened as he turned away, getting out of my face.

Silence carried out far too long for the both of us, and just as Taj was about to exit again, leaving me to rest for the suicide match, the other side of me finally appeared like Whodini in a magic trick. "Teague Allah James, don't you walk out that door. I... I need you."

Everything stopped as I, at long last, admitted what we'd both wanted to hear for the longest time. Now, it was just how you interpreted it that made it meaningful or meaningless. Taj's eyes locked with mine and we'd finally reached a new understanding with each other.

* * *

Sara's POV:

The insistent sound of someone's beeper was only faintly heard over Warrick's triumphant cheer as he scored yet another touchdown on the game, silently rubbing it in Nick's face as we all checked our waistlines for any messages on our beepers. The screen on mine was blank, and from the way Warrick and Greg looked around for everyone else's expressions, all eyes fell on Nick as he read his message briefly with furrowed brows.

Standing up and stretching, Nick tossed down his remote and eyed Warrick with an inspective gaze. "This isn't over man... I will be back, and it's on. There's no way I'm losing to the Jets, especially when they're being played by you." His brown eyes flashed over to me next, motioning to the doorway of the breakroom. "Jacqui got an ID back on our John Doe. Wanna tag along?"

Telling him I would choose ID over the sludge called breakroom coffee any time of the night or morning, we exited to the corridors and then down to the print lab. The tired faced brunette casted a gaze over on the both of us as we entered, extending her arm to us to wave us over to her computer she was stationed at.

"Got a hit in Missing Persons from years ago. About a decade, actually." Pulling up the profile on the computer, a much more lively picture of our vic was shown.

Before Jacqui could even get another word in, my mouth flew open in disbelief as I inspected the picture closer. It was a group picture of our vic, and some _very_ familiar faces in front of an Effie's Pizza Diner only found in Brooklyn. Mainly, the faces consisted of Brooke, Taj, and myself when we were younger and I was in the Crooks' household with Brooke. I couldn't believe it... It was Billy.

"Billy James. Oh my God..." I gasped, stepping away from the screen as if it was offending me beyond all reason.

"Sara? Is... Is that you?" Nick queried, leaning in closer to get a better visual of me in the picture. "And is that your friend Brooke?"

I stuttered a few incomprehensible words as I studied the picture closely, but got nothing out to answer Nick's question. The whole concept was still too surreal for me to even grasp reality weakly. My eyes closed tight as the memory came back...

* * *

_Flashback_

"_C'mon Sara! Get over here! We're taking a picture to remember that we were **the** first customers **ever** at the soon-to-be world renown pizza goddess, Effie!" Billy, or BJ, hollered from across the small parking lot._

_William Allah James, Billy James, BJ... We all had different nicknames for him, but he was the same kid. Taj's twin brother, and the heartthrob of Brooklyn among the girls. All the right looks, warm blue eyes, and a personality that could welcome any stranger into his house if he needed it, or the clothes off his back. _

"_C'mon Sar!" A seven-year-old Brooke encouraged, running to Taj's side instantly._

_Rolling my eyes and reluctantly joining my group of friends in front of the diner, we all struck eccentric poses as the camera went off with a blinding flash. But it was all the same sign on our hands. The Tyler Street sign, we called it, and that was how you could tell where we were from. Effie, pizza extraordinare as we called her and our Greek grandma, was a family friend of both our families since practically forever. She stood shyly in the center of the four of us with her quaint smile and hands behind her back as we surrounded her with our OG stances. After the photo was done, we all fell around laughing at how ridiculous we must've looked._

"_C'mon! Let's go eat! I'm hungry!" BJ announced publicly, dashing off for the door in a blink of an eye._

_End of Flashback

* * *

_

Tears swelled up into my eyes but I held them down. "Yeah... That's us. And our two best friends from our childhood, Billy and Teague James..."

"God..." Nick whispered under his breath. A long pause washed over us as Jacqui looked between the two of us. Nick turned to Jacqui and thanked her and led me out of the Print lab, still shell-shocked. "Sara... Y'know where this is gonna go, don't you?"

"No Nick. Please don't tell Grissom or anyone. I don't care about Conflict of Interest at this point." I responded immediately at the thought. "I don't want to sit on the sidelines while one of my best friend's killer is out there on the loose. I-I... I just can't. I need to help solve this."

"Sara, c'mon now... We have Conflict of Interest for a reason. You know we have to remain unbiased with all of our cases, or else..." Nick proceeded to rattle off what I already knew, but didn't want to hear.

"Nicolas Avery Stokes." It hardly ever got to this point when I had to use his full name. "You cannot have Grissom pull me off this case."

"What? Don't you trust me with finding whoever did this to your friend?" Nicky pulled out all the guns.

"I do, but..." Nick cut me off before I could think of something else to further explain myself.

"No buts Sara." Said Nick. "Trust me, I will find whoever did this to your friend, but please... Don't get me in trouble because of not reporting this. We have rules for a reason, Sara."

As Nick tried to walk away, I followed along side with him, sensing he was en route to Grissom's office. "But rules are meant to be bent a little bit some times, Nick! If we had followed Conflict of Interest, we would've never gotten you out alive." I stopped walking as I gave my last comment, seeing him stiffen up at the mention of his near-death experience just last year.

When Nick turned to me several moments later, I saw a new understanding in his brown eyes. It took a little bit longer, but soon he rejoined me and we continued our walk – but now, not toward Grissom's office. "Sara... Never say I ever did nothing for you."

"Thank you, Nicky." I breathed in relief. "Thank you."

* * *

Brooke's POV:

"_Final call out for Brooke Waters! One minute or you're disqualified."_ The announcer called out.

"Brooke, you're in no condition to fight. You can barely stand up." Taj admonished, aiding me in washing up.

"But I have to." I insisted. "If you go out there by yourself, you won't stand a chance against Rai and his partner." I looked up at him. "You'll come back looking worse than I do right now."

"And you won't come back at all." Taj remarked. "I won't let you get killed, Brooke."

"Then don't. But I need to get out there to fight too." I said, trying to get back on my feet from where I sat on the toilet.

"You haven't even healed properly yet from your fight with those whipping boys, and because I was a dumbass, you've got more damage added on from these last two fights. The _least_ I can do is go out there and win this final round." Taj said sweetly. "You really should go to the hospital for those welts. They still don't look like anything to mess with."

"NO!" I yelled impulsively before quickly correcting my tone. "You know how I feel about hospitals."

"I wouldn't leave you... Not once, I promise." Taj cupped my face with his hand. "Just let me take you to the hospital to get you checked over and given antibiotics. Maybe even give you some more blood in your system because you probably lost a lot." Genuine concern flashed through his eyes in great surges. "That's why you're not on the top of your game tonight."

Knowing that would've made perfect sense, but with great reluctance and regret, I nodded. "Fine... I'll let you take me to the hospital if you let me fight."

Taj rolled his eyes, standing up and walking out of the stall before walking back in and crouching down beside me again. "You are _really_ difficult, you know that?"

"Let me fight, or I won't let you take me to the hospital at all." I stubbornly claimed, crossing my arms defiantly.

Taj was smart enough to know that I was serious and that arguing with me would only result in recycled reruns of the same thing for hours upon hours. "Fine. But you're going in that ring with a metal pole bigger than you are."

"Deal."

He extended his hand like a wise-ass to shake on it, but I did the half expected reaction at the time by snatching him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss turned make-out session in the bathroom. It was the kind of kiss that left you breathless but not willing to let go just yet. I wouldn't have pulled back if it hadn't been for the fact that I remembered the announcer's call out just earlier.

"Teague! The tournament!" I managed to get out in a muffled call due to him trying to reconnect our lips again in an eager and hungry fashion.

Staring at each other for a quick moment, Taj soon moved to dash out of the bathroom to save our spot in the tournament, having my slightly slowed self trail after him. And I would've been right with him, if it hadn't been for the intense dizzy spell that overcame me just then and caused me to fall to the floor, this time, unconscious.

* * *

Taj's POV:

Upon hearing a thud just as I was about to exit the bathroom, the feeling of her lips still pressed and moving against mine, I turned to reveal Brooke had passed out on the floor. Panicking, I yelled out into the crowd for help as I rushed to her side. Her pulse was alive but I knew she was far from all right. It was like I had said earlier, she had lost too much blood and needed medical attention. Damn me for not taking her when I first got her.

A large group of people entered the bathroom and crowded around the doorway to speculate what was happening as I lifted her to cradle Brooke in my arms. A familiar face stuck out of the crowd, Brooke's foster brother Jason, and I motioned for him to come forth. Complying, I said carefully enough for him to lip read that I needed him to get Brooke and me to the hospital quick.

Pushing through the mass of people, the three of us passed the ring where Rai and his partner Seth dismounted the ring and caught up with us, smug smiles on both of their faces. Handing Brooke gently over to Jay and instructing him to get her out to his car, and that I'd be out soon, he left without hesitation. Jay knew things were going to get ugly.

"Hah! Seems like we win by disqualification!" Rai proclaimed triumphantly. "I guess I'll just have to come by later to pick up my new girlfriend though..."

Seething, my fist slammed right into his face, knocking him backwards and into his partner, taking them both down to the floor. Several people from the audience rushed forth to hold me back from stomping on Rai and Seth while they were on their backs and vulnerable. Foreign hands held me back by my chest and restrained me by grabbing my shirt back until I began to let up my fight, knowing Brooke needed me right now.

But just as I was about to walk away, I suddenly turned back to the rising men with a more than dead serious face and a look that could kill even though I couldn't at the moment. "You _ever_ come near Brooke, I _will_ kill you. And that's not a threat; it's a promise."

**TBC...

* * *

**

A/N2: Ahh... Everything catches up with everybody with time. And that fight is going to take its toll on Brooke in every aspect. Stick around & you'll find out. Holla at me! 

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	20. Hospitals Cops

A/N: After much inner debating, I've decided just to continue this story and finish it, even if I have lost reviewers. Sey la vi, si? Besides, I know I at least have two faithful reviewers, **odeepblue** and my homegirl Chloe! That's what I'm talking about. True blue, those two right there. Thank you guys for everything. So, just for y'all that are reading & reviewing, reading & not reviewing, this is for y'all just because I love ya.

Disclaimer: Me-eo no ownie-o. Peace-eo

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Chapter 20: Hospitals + Cops

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Sara's POV:

_How am I gonna tell Brooke? Do I even? I mean, BJ was her friend too._ I thought, half listening to Nick's casual talking and theories. _Is it possible she already knows about BJ? And if BJ is gone, what's happened to Taj?_

"This was definitely an unfair fight. Worse than two-on-one." Nick expelled a breath of air, throwing his pen down on the table before sitting back. "Is there anyone, even from the past that would wanna do this to him? Was he into anything?"

"Well... Every girl in Brooklyn _did_ call him 'Half A Heartbreak', and he or his brother, Taj, were usually the reason why the girls broke up with their boyfriends." I pulled off a small smile.

"'Half A Heartbreak'?" Nick questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah." I confirmed. "Taj was the other half. Girls were devastated whenever BJ or Taj broke up with them."

"Motive." Nick state matter-of-factly. "Old, but still... We've seen older."

Nodding, I tried to imagine BJ as he had been all those years ago. "And as for if he was into anything... No. Taj, yes, but BJ wasn't. He was the clean one. Gangs and drugs weren't his scene." I could only speak with half confidence. We _all_ had changed back then, and considering the neighborhood we grew up in, it wouldn't be too bad of a surprise to find out if BJ had been into the gang scene. "Re-run over the coronary report again."

Flipping through the case file folder, on the front page he began to look over it again. "Tox was clean. He was healthy before he ended up in the morgue. COD was internal bleeding caused by the fracture of the sternum bone penetrating the liver. Doc Robbins had found severe bruising around the skin above his cracked sternum with an indentation of something that he said looked like it could be a ring. So, the sternum was cracked from a blow to the chest most likely." Flipping over the page he continued. "Severe bruising to the face, torso, and upper extremities. And so many broken or fractured bones that he'd have to be in a body cast right now."

Not a word was said as I thought about what the next step was. "Too bad we don't have a database for ring indentations." I animadverted the lack of databases that we weren't provided. "Where there any other decisive marks left on him besides ring embrasures? Knife wounds? Gun wounds?"

"Nothing Sara. I'm sorry to say, but your friend was beaten to death. He had nothing on him either when he was found, so he might've been mugged." Nick sent an apologetic gaze my way. "Sara, are you _sure_..."

I was about to admonish Nick for the tenth time for catechizing my ability to perform my job effectively until my cellphone rang. It was an unknown caller, much to my disappointment. The fact that I just found one of my best friends was murdered didn't set a comforting feeling in my stomach concerning Brooke's health now. To be fully honest, it didn't even assure me of my future either, but I wasn't about allow that to be my main concern right now. Whoever this caller was, if it was important enough, they'd leave a message. If not, they'd realize they had the wrong number and move on. Right now, I had priorities to tend to, right?

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Taj's POV:

"Dammit!" I swore quietly outside of the hospital, shutting Brooke's cellphone with a sharp snap.

Gazing back at Desert Palm Hospital longingly, my heart ached to be with the woman that was contained within its walls, but since I had been persistent on going in side-by-side with Brooke, I was kicked out. They threatened to call the cops on me if I didn't leave the premises, but I was sitting just out of reach of where the security cameras monitored the parking lot.

I clutched the cellphone in my hand so tight, I was sure for a second there that it would break under the pressure. It wouldn't be the first time.

Going through the address book again, I looked up my best friend's name again just for clarification. _Sara Sidle,_ it read. Brooke had found Sara again and hadn't informed me?

Since Jay and I had rushed Brooke to the hospital, I'd tried to reach Sara at least a good solid ten times. No reply. I could only imagine that if Brooke wanted anyone to know her condition now, it would be Sara. It was the same deal when I tried to call my brother, BJ. And I had already informed "The Man" about his employee's condition now, or more like, I told his secretary to tell him.

_The Man goes to any length to make sure we can't trace him. He won't even get on the phone with a voice disguiser._

Redialing the phone number, I waited for the expected answering machine to pick up. But instead, her actual voice greeted me after three rings as apposed to her machine. _"Who is this, and why are you calling me at this time of night?"_ Sara Sidle's voice was obviously upset and on edge. Did she already know? She couldn't have.

"Sara! It's me, Taj." I could only guess that my deep voice would set her off track.

My assumption was true when Sara didn't say anything for three straight minutes. I could picture her dumbfounded expression she must be wearing right now, with her mouth open a crack and her eyes blinking a few times in between the lengthy silent periods.

Her muffled voice implied that she had covered up the receiver so I couldn't hear what she was saying. All I could clearly make out was, _"I'm...ouside..."_ The sound of shoes against a hard tiled floor followed for a long time until the tile sound turned to pavement. But while the clacking of the tile floor commenced, I heard the whir of machines and computers through the entire time, and people talking in "inside voices". _"Teague? Is that really you?"_

"The one and only." I tried to sound emphatic and happy about it, but the situation I was in now killed that emotion in me.

"_Oh my God... How did you get my number?"_ She inquired with the incredibility still in her voice, but something else was also in there. Guilt maybe?

Now it was my turn to have the guilt in my voice, but more pronounced than hers. Staring back at the hospital with guilt ridden blue eyes, I scratched and rubbed the back of my neck nervously as if she were right in front of me asking that question. Taking a breath, I threw myself against the wall and began to tell her.

"Brooke's in the hospital, Sar... I think she'll wanna see you when she wakes up and can have visitors."

"_Hospital? What the Hell happened?"_ The alarm in her voice made me flinch somewhat.

That's the part I panicked at. Had Brooke told her, or had she kept her oath not to tell anyone? It was hard to tell, seeing as it _was_ Sara. There wasn't much Brooke didn't tell her, or at best that's how it was in the past. For the security sake, I could only pray that Brooke didn't tell her anything just yet.

"It was a bad fight." It wasn't a lie, technically, but it wasn't as factually as it could be. "I think she'll be fine, but I thought I'd let you know."

"_W-wait! Taj! What hospital?"_ Sara was now frantic to know. _"Desert Palm?"_

"Is there any other hospital in Vegas?"

"_I'll be there as soon as I can."_ Sara promised just before I heard the click of the phone.

Hanging up the cellphone, my eyes constricted shut and I rested my head back against the cold brick wall. The coldness relaxed me, relaxing all my muscles causing me to slide down to the floor. I couldn't begin to center my thoughts, but they all had the same subject. Brooke. Isn't that the way it's always been though? I couldn't get my mind off of her, no matter who I was with or what I was doing. Just like the night I had to go and give her a ride from the fight in the woods, I completely blew off my girlfriend for the past couple of months and doing what most couples do late at night just to go protect Brooke. If it had been anyone else, beside my brother, Sara, or Jay, I wouldn't have done it. But it wasn't just anyone. It was _Brooke_.

A realization came to mind. Shanice... I couldn't play her like this. She was my girlfriend but I was far from loving her like she thought I did. Placing Brooke's cellphone into my pocket and switching it for my own phone, I found the address book and Shanice's cellphone number. She wouldn't be up this late, and I didn't feel like calling her now, but I knew it was inevitable. If that kiss in the bathroom stall was any indication as to where things were heading between Brooke and me, I had to break it off with Shanice. And sadly enough, it wasn't even for Shanice's sake. It was for Brooke's.

Approaching footsteps were heard against the pavement, and I soon found myself under the blue scrutiny of Jay. _What do you need, Jay?_

_They don't understand sign language in there. I need an interpretor and I know you wanna get back in that hospital._ Jay responded in sign. _It's the closest you're gonna get to Brooke for now, and it'll be a chance to redeem yourself._

Jumping to my feet, I followed him back in. As we approached the front desk, the receptionist shot me a light and dirty look. _Yeah Jay, that's real redemption so far._ I looked at Jay before turning to the receptionist. "I'm the interpretor."

"If you're gonna be in here, don't cause a fuss like last time. We have people in here that are upset enough without you adding more on." She scolded, passing the clipboard to me roughly, slapping a pen down loudly on top.

Walking away with the nasty comment stuck in my mind, I took a seat with Jay and began filling out the paperwork "to the best of my ability". The phrase left a bittersweet humorous thought in my mind.

_After she gets out, this paperwork isn't gonna be the only thing I'll be doing "to the best of my ability"._ I promised to myself and to that one in a million woman somewhere in this hospital.

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Sara's POV:

I seemed to be at a fork in the road. I altered my vision between the lab and my car, debating whether I should leave or stay until I thought Brooke might be able to entertain visitors. I had obligations either way I chose, which didn't make things simpler for me. Every time I took a step toward one of my duties, I felt guilt tugging me back in the other direction.

_What in the Hell am I supposed to do?_

"Sara?" Nicky's voice called into the morning air. "Sara, what's up?"

I pivoted toward the Texan with the wildness burning in my eyes. One glimpse into my eyes had Nick taken aback, but took a step forward to lay a comforting hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong, Sar? You can tell me."

"Nicky, she's in the hospital." I blurted out finally. "Brooke's in the hospital."

"What? How?" Nicky had taken a liking to Brooke, I had noticed from the Police Ball. "Is she all right?"

"I have no clue. All I was told was that she got into a bad fight and now she's at Desert Palm." My eyes were the only thing betraying my tranquil telling voice.

"Sara, go. Just go. If you need someone to drive you, I will." Nicky didn't waste any time in throwing the offer out, and his resolution had me snapping my head up to look at him in surprise. "Don't give me that look Sara Sidle! I know how hard it is to chose between the ones you love and the job. I'll cover for you, no worries!" That glimmer in his eyes surfaced for me to see. "After all, rules are meant to be bent every once in a while, right?"

Quicker than the speed of light, my arms found their way around Nick's neck in a tight squeeze for a hug before I pulled away with a grateful look spread across my face. "Thank you Nick. Are you sure?"

"Course I'm sure! I'll just say that you went off to go get us something to eat at this place across town." Nick winked, nodding his head toward the parking lot. "Now go. It takes some time to get across town to that all night place, Sara, and I'm hungry!"

"Sure thing. That special number one, right?" I played along, jogging across the parking lot already.

"Yup, the typical! Thanks!" Nick said with a laugh as he entered the lab again.

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Grissom's POV:

I gazed with many questions at the exchange between Nick and Sara. I had watched as Sara had gotten off of the phone and obviously was left in a state above distressed by the call. My legs began to beckon me to her to comfort her, but that was until Nick came out. I remained rooted to my spot afterwards, allowing Nick to do what he seemed best at – consoling his friends. When all was said and done, Sara had apparently been cured by Nick and his caring ways as she jogged off in the direction of her car, calling back something about the special number one. I scrunched my face up in bemusement as I commenced my walk to her.

_Not exactly what I'm here for, but I will be the one to complain when Ecklie admits that he does not rightfully own this lab._ I fought back a playful smirk.

"Sara!" I called out, knowing she'd get into her car and drive off before I even got a foot close to her.

"Griss!" Sara replied before she was even fully turned around. "Don't tell me you forgot something _again_."

Flashbacks of earlier back at Sara's house tore down my memory's floodgates and filled my mind when I peered down at her. Shaking myself out of what I now deemed to be 'at home Grissom', I regained my posture. "What can I say? I've been distracted tonight." Which wasn't far from the truth, might I add.

Her smile surfaced, knotting up my stomach with the realization that her smile was directed toward me. _No one ever said that growing older would eliminate these adolescent feelings you get completely._ "You can't pin that on me, Mr. Grissom... I wasn't there telling you to concentrate on anything besides work." Something within her seemed to click, snapping her out of her flirting mode quickly. "Hey, I have to get going... My place after work?"

Sensing the urgency in her voice now, it was like a cold shower and I could simply nod, stepping back and stuffing my hands in my pockets. Being the quick learner that I am, as of less than a minute ago, I now knew this stance will catch Sara's attention even in the most frantic of times. It hadn't been on purpose this time, but with this knowledge at my disposal, who knows what good I could put it toward?

My reward was a very circumspect kiss, given our place and time, but sweet nonetheless. I now was very glad that Sara parked in the very back of the parking lot, at the farthest reaches of the security cameras.

"I'll see you then." Sara promised, getting inside of her car and revving the engine once it was started.

My eyes stuck to her as Sara pulled out and drove off. I suppressed a chuckle, walking into the building to get what I truly came for... Information.

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Taj's POV:

Anticipation could be a killer. Especially if you were in my situation right now.

"_A'yo, it Blaze but uh... Obviously I ain't here right now. Never know what I could be doing but holla at me to let me know what you need. No guarantees, but I'll get back to you if I can. A'ight? Peace!"_ My brother's voice mail was met at my call.

"Hey! BJ! C'mon man... I know it don't take you that long to unpack... Call me back, man. Some serious shit just went down. A'ight? Holla." I left what felt like my thirtieth message for my brother in the time after I was finished with that damn paperwork. I couldn't handle the suspense and anticipation of waiting for Brooke's doctor to tell me what was up with her, and no offense to Jay, but I didn't feel like signing all my frustrations out to him. It wasn't the release I needed.

Lowering my head to my knees, I ran my hand roughly over my Caesar cut hair and buried my face in my hand. With a heightened sense of hearing, I noted the opening of the automatic doors and the sound of shoes against the tile. I had given up checking every person that came into this building, hoping it would be Sara, and I simply continued to wallow in my own misery.

_How was I going to explain this to Sara? She always was one to want all the details._ I internally groaned, rubbing my eyes of the sleep that had formed there now. _Maybe I should wash up in the bathroom to hide all the blood and cuts..._

"Hello, is Brooke Waters able to see visitors yet?"

Shooting my eyes up at both the name of my worries and the voice that had spoke that name, I saw no one else standing at the reception desk beside the young girl I once knew as Sara Sidle turned into a young woman. Rushing to my feet, I stared a hole into the back of her head before I finally shouted, "Sara!"

Her brown and wavy hair raised from her spinning around to meet my call, questioning brown eyes meeting my blue ones. The inquiring look soon dissipated into widening saucers upon recognizing my face. I had grown but evidently Sara was still the girl with the memory as long as time. Miss Attention To Detail I once called her after we all had walked away the police interviewing us on a drive-by that had occurred in our neighborhood. Sara had noticed everything about the car and the shooter who was stupid enough not to wear a mask.

"Taj!" Her response was a cross between a gasp and a shout. That's the one thing I won't ever get over, my ability to catch Sara off guard. It's a once in a while opportunity. "Jay!"

Both Jay and I had met her halfway, greeting her with a hug one at a time. Jay seemed to cling to his older foster sister, being the semi-dependent person that he is. Sara pats his back in reassurance that she won't be going anywhere anytime soon just before she turns to me. Enveloping her in my arms, I gave her a hug that suggested I thought she was fragile as glass.

Sara was still that slender and statuesque girl that just happened to turn into a beautiful woman. She was one of the very few white girls that I knew that could pull off that gap tooth smile, as well, even though when she was little, Sara was ashamed of it and people often taunted her for it. From what she had showed me of her family pictures of her biological family, I remembered how I used to think she had her Father's looks when she was growing up. Staring down at her now, I recalled the woman in the portrait that was her Mother and I saw a direct replica standing in front of me now. I also noticed something hanging around her neck, an ID card with her picture confirming that she was part of the LVPD Crime Lab Unit.

_Same ole Sara... Always wanting to help others..._

"Oh snap! My baby girl Sara is all grown up now!" I faked a tear in my eye, spinning toward Jay to sob on his shoulder. "They just grow up too fast!"

"You should be the one to talk, Mr. Teague Allah James!" Sara remarked, scaling me once with a smile. Her happy face soon faded once she actually took in my appearance and my bruising. "What happened to you?"

Growing serious now, I scratched the back of my head sheepishly. "The same thing that happened to Brooke, just less serious." Like she didn't see it, I tried to wipe away the dried blood from the corners of my lips and above my eyebrow and cheek.

Looking around with circumspect brown eyes, she drew closer to me so that our faces were less than a foot away and whispered when we were in a huddle. "What are you guys getting into? Please don't tell me it's something illegal."

Yanking back and away, I shook my head and raised my hands defensively. "Sara, we're not getting into anything illegal." I couldn't bring myself to say anymore on that subject.

"Taj." She addressed me authoritatively. "If you're lying to me, I will know... I'm... I'm part of the crime lab now; I'm a CSI."

Sending her a challenging look, I silently dared her to investigate our lives. "Sara, what's with the questionnaire? It's like you don't trust me or Brooke anymore."

Crossing her arms across her chest, Sara looked away for a moment before turning her gaze to me. "What can I say? I've seen some questionable events since I've rediscovered Brooke." Sara revealed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to seem like an interrogation. I'm just... worried."

"I know, I know..." I soothed her. "That call probably didn't do anything for you, huh?"

Letting out a choppy laugh, she moved her hands down to her hips. "You have no idea."

"So..." I felt the desire to switch the topics now, if not sooner. "You're a big bad CSI girl now, huh? You sitting on white gold now?"

Seating ourselves back at the waiting room chairs, we plunged ourselves into a conversation, also including the quiet Jay who didn't have much to say or input. I think it was a common agreement that we didn't truly want to discus Brooke, for it would bring up the nervousness and anxiety of not knowing what was going on with her. We all needed a distraction from our situation and surroundings.

That was, until a doctor came out looking very fatigued from her long shift most likely. Gray eyes searched around the room, locking onto the three of us eventually before the words even left her mouth. Drawn to our feet by her scrutiny, we trekked across the floor to meet her. "Are you for Brooke Waters?"

"Yes." I spoke above Sara's reply. "Please tell me she's a'ight."

"Well... Considering she lost more than half of her blood, had several broken ribs, sprained her right wrist, and had some nasty lacerations and welts that were virally infected all across her body. And when I say _all_ across her body, I mean, it appeared like there wasn't a square inch on her body that wasn't lacerated. But besides all of that, she's now recovering." The young doctor laid my rigged body at ease with her report. "We cleaned and treated the lacerations and welts, casted and wrapped her wrist and torso, and stabilized her blood count. She's fully awake and complaining about her pillows not being fluffed enough." A laugh was carried out softly between Sara and I while Jay just shook his head in amusement.

_That's always Brooke... Making everything difficult._

"She can entertain visitors, but please... One at a time. 56C." The doctor said, giving me in particularly a wary look now. "If you'll excuse me now..."

Glaring a hole in her back, the three of us made our way down the hall. Memories of the cops that had visited Jen's house flashed through my mind's eye, and how they'd asked if Brooke Waters resided here. The only thing that made sense to me was to think that the people she versed and critically beat down must've known who she was and snitched on her.

_Just great._

Standing just outside of the door and already hearing Brooke inside going off on all cylinders most likely to some poor nurse that just happened to be tending to her. I glanced at Sara and tossed my head in the direction of the room Brooke was in.

"You go take a whack at her first." I offered. "You and Jay both."

"You sure, Taj? I know you must want to see her just as badly." A sly expression fell on her pale face.

"Yeah yeah... But you probably have something you need to be getting back to right now, and I'm gonna be around all morning." I shrugged and hooked my thumbs to the inside of my jean's pocket.

"I'll be quick about it." Sara promised, entering the room with Jay.

Minutes flew by as I waited for Sara and Jay to emerge from there visit, itching to see Brooke and hear her voice again. But it was only in the last minute of waiting that I heard something that set all of my warning signals that this visit wouldn't end right at all. The nurse that had been in Brooke's room previously exited, beginning to chat it up with another nurse that was walking by.

"Is that Brooke Waters?" The new nurse questioned in a whisper I barely picked up on.

"Yup." Brooke's nurse replied with a swift nod.

"Aren't the cops here _yet_?" The nurse emphasized the yet part overdramatically.

"Dr. Williams says they're on their way as we speak." And with that, they broke apart, going off to other rooms.

_Oh shit._

**TBC...

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A/N2: Warning!: I will be updating fast so please keep up. So, until next time. Adios amigas!

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	21. Escape Routes & Blaze

A/N: Update! Thank you for the reviews, y'all! That means, Chloe, **Freckles929**, and** odeepblue**! Love you guys!

Disclaimer: See past chapters. Pick a chapter, any chapter.

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Chapter 21: Escape Routes & Blaze

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Sara's POV:

"Brooklyn Marie Waters, what in the Hell happened to you? You and Taj both look like you got beaten down by a gang of thugs!" I exclaimed to the woman lay there in the hospital bed.

"Just let it go, Sara." Forever the ornery person she is, Brooke crossed her arms and stared away. "We're fine."

"Yeah Brooke. Sitting in a hospital bed and looking like you are right now really spells out 'fine' in my book too." I remarked sarcastically. "Taj won't speak, so I'm counting on you to tell me the truth. Brooke, I've been your sister since you were five... You can trust me with whatever it is that's going on in your life right now. I can help you."

"Help? Who said anything about help?" Brooke made the 'What the Hell are you talking about' face toward me with her eyebrows bunched together. "I'm not in a situation that requires any help, Sar. So will you please put your little CSI instincts on pause until you get back to work? Damn."

"_Could you two please just stop fighting already? It's giving me a headache!"_ Jay signed from his seat on the couch. _"Brooke's right Sara... You do need to lay off the CSI part of you. Brooke is not in any kind of trouble... Or at least the kind of trouble you're accusing her off. And trust me, I **know** what you're thinking."_

"Jay, I'm just concerned." I don't know how many times more I could say that. "We're a family, and... We're supposed to protect and help each other."

"_But Sara... We're not in a position where we need help."_ Jay replied in sign. _"Would I lie to you?"_

The fact that Jason was the one inquiring my trust now had me believing everything was all right. But a look back at Brooke's mangled and bruised face jarred my emotions as I thought once again of all the positions she could be in right now. Abusive relationships, gang violence, repercussions of getting out of a gang... They flowed through my mind like words flow out of a freestyler's mouth.

"Sara... Don't stand there looking like you're tryna solve the world's problems..." Brooke said softly with compassion in her tone. "This is me. And this is you. There ain't a damn thing different about us now that there was back then. So _that_ means, if I ever needed anything – any _help_ – I would come to you in a heartbeat. So..." Brooke held in a breath, promptly letting it out with the rise and fall of her shoulders. "You don't have to worry."

Realizing the sincerity of her words, or what I hoped to be sincerity, I started to tell her that I had to be on my way, as I was on duty right now technically. With a sentiment of goodbyes accompanied with hugs, Jay and I left the room and met up with a very horror struck Taj back out in the hallway.

"What's wrong with you? Ghosts don't exist Taj." I teased him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." Taj was hasty to regain his posture for a quick moment before turning back into a jittery mess as he glanced up and down the hallways. "I'll be right back."

Disappearing into the room, I arched an eyebrow at him as I decided to wait for him. Taj sure was a strange guy at times...

_So wasn't BJ..._ My conscience spoke softly.

A wave of sadness filled me as I pondered how I was going to break this news to Taj. He couldn't walk around his entire life thinking BJ was still alive. I know people say it's better to live in hope than despair, but I owed Taj just as much to be the one to tell him. But, when was the right time to tell someone that someone they loved was laying on a cold slab in a morgue at the place you work?

Thankful for every distraction I could get, I had to admit this one left me confused. Two uniformed officers came marching through the halls, a piece of paper in their hands searching for a certain room number. I wanted to live in the oblivious bliss of not thinking that the cops were searching for a certain bi-colored African-American woman by the name of Brooke Waters, but when the officers stopped at the sight of me and the room number next to the door, my fears were confirmed.

"Officer Carlson. Officer Johnson..." I greeted, knowing both officers only formally. "Who are you looking for?"

"Hey Sara. A... Brooke Water?" Carlson read off of the paper he held. "Wanted for questioning." A beat passed before he spoke his mind. "What are you doing here visiting a witness? You're not working the case."

_Please Brooke... If this is anything serious, you'll be in more trouble than just with the law.

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Brooke's POV:

"_What!_ Oh Hell no!"

"Damn Brooke, you've got yourself in some serious trouble now." Taj commented, pacing about the sterile hospital room. "How are you going to get outta here? Jump?"

My eyes shot up from the place in my hands were they resided, now gleaming with mischievous intent and resolve. Knowing that his harmless comment had sparked an idea in my corrupt mind, Taj's facial expression took on a very apprehensive tone to it. "Brooke, you have gotta be kidding me."

"_Hey Sara. A... Brooke Waters?"_ A voice greeted my sister from just outside the door.

"C'mon Taj. I can't get locked up. I got too many things to get done instead of bustin' heads with the scum of the Earth in jail." I pleaded, grabbing my dirty clothes beside me to swap for this rag of a gown.

Putting his back to me for privacy sake, I rushed to relieve myself of the hospital gown to put on my normal clothes, in all of their bloody and torn glory. Sara, who was stationed outside, seemed to be questioning the officers about what they wanted with me. If it wasn't for the fact that I was trying to escape, I would kill them for telling Sara half truths that they knew nothing about. But I had more pressing issues to tend to at the moment thanks to Taj who was the bright one who gave my actual name away instead of an alias. Moron.

"Brooke, this isn't good." Taj further persuaded.

"What was your first clue in the conclusion, doc?" I hissed sarcastically, tugging up and buttoning my jeans.

Ignoring my harsh comment, Taj picked up from where he left off. "Your ribs are broken and so isn't your wrist. Better yet, how are you going to land safely?" Tossing his arms up only to let them fall back to his side with a slap, exasperation coated his deep voice. "We're three levels up in this place!"

Peering out the window, a few feet away was a tree planted for my convenience. _It'll have to do._

Taking no heed to his attempts to dissuade me, I crept toward the door while steering clear of the small peeping window in the door. Silently securing the door shut by placing a chair under the doorknob, I crept my way back to Taj. Snatching him by the shirt and twirling him to face me, I rested the side of my face against his to whisper into his left ear. "And unless you wanna be interrogated and charged with aiding a wanted criminal, I suggest you jump too."

Pulling back and shooting me a gaze to suggest I was psychotic, the alarmed look in his eyes amused me only slightly. "You _are_ crazy." Taj proclaimed. "You are _beyond_ help."

"True. But you still love me." I grinned, kissing him softly with a little tease added on for good measure.

Backing up to the door, Taj eventually and reluctantly joined me and the moment the doorknob jiggled, signifying the cops wanted in, I took off in a run first for the single pane glass window. Springing off of the cushions on the couch, I rotated to my side and braced myself for the crash, the glass, and the fall after it all.

I felt the glass shards tear against the back of my neck and forehead. It stung and the impact of my body against the thick glass left the right side of my body numb. It was worth it in the end, I figured, when I latched onto the closest outstretched tree branch the vegetation had to offer me. Faster than the speed of light or sound, I scrambled on top of the branch and pushed myself back until my back hit the sturdy trunk. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, more of a visitor there than my own blood it seemed now, as I observed Taj mimicking my heart thumping stunt.

My bi-colored eyes widened in terror, however, when Taj's pant leg snagged itself on a jagged edge of glass in the window and was now stumbling through the air, ungracefully. Wrapping my right arm and both legs about the branch I was stationed on, I hung like a sloth and extended my free arm out to my fallen friend.

"Taj!"

My hand barely connected with his, holding onto him by what felt like a very thin thread, and his weight didn't do anything to strengthen my grip. My shoes dug into the bristle bark when I attempted to place myself on top of the branch once more, only causing me to lose my grip on my place _and_ Taj. Breaking into a strained sweat, I frantically tried to find that easy way out that was always there if you searched hard enough. A place to direct Taj so he wouldn't make a pancake on the ground three floors below us.

_C'mon... C'mon..._

A fruitless endeavor was made to try and pull him up with my bare strength in my weaker arm, leaving me with the slightest of grips on him. My cool, calm, and collected facade was crumbling down like a ton of bricks as the clamminess of my hand subsequently caused us to slip further apart.

_Time to take a gamble._ The thought that popped into my mind abruptly made me say to myself internally.

I relied on my quickness and strength when I let go of the branch with my right arm, barely hanging on by my legs upside down now. Taking a hold of Taj's arm, it was a one second job to hoist him up to the abandoned branch so he could grasp it instead. After my one second was up, I found myself free falling head first to the ground. My quickness, though succeeding with the first task, failed me in the second part of my plan where I latched onto Taj's legs with mine to prevent me from falling.

"Brooke!" Taj's voice resonated above me like an angel from Heaven.

_It's all over now. I hope I'm not one of those **lucky **people that miraculously survive for a short time before dying._ I thought to myself, nausea settling in my stomach. _If I thought my day was bad before, that'd just finalize the whole ordeal._

And strangely enough, though everyone always said that your life flashed before your eyes in near fatal or fatal experiences, the inside of my eyelids remained blanker than a cloudy night sky. There was nothing. No voices ran through my head of late beloveds, guiding me into that bright light at the end of the tunnel.

_So much for the preparation of telling those voices that the light was not good for me._ I couldn't help but think sarcastically. _I had my whole speech ready and everything._

And yet, as I felt myself nearing the ground, I heard the chipping of bark. That's correct, _bark_. Tree bark, actually. And following that sound, I felt an arm snake and snatch me around my stomach, disturbing my broken ribs. Cursing loudly and feeling like the pain would do me in, I barely got a chance to feel grateful for whoever had saved me from my death from the amount of pain I was in. Now I wasn't even sure what would've been worse.

Turning my head to look up at Taj who was hugging the tree with one arm and his boots tearing a parallel path down the length of the tree trunk, he sent a look at me speaking of his apologies silently. He always was able to climb a tree like a monkey and get down one just as fast.

Jumping down the rest of the tree, a measly couple of feet, I found I couldn't stand on my shaky legs. The pain and the realization finally caught up with me that I almost died was now taking its toll, the pain more than the near-death experience. Throughout my life, I had more than a fair share of near-deaths, but that didn't mean that with every single one, it got easier to bear with. What you see in the movies is _wrong_ in that regard.

But hearing a door being busted in three stories up through my heightened auditory sense was enough to get me stabilized enough to make the mad dash across the parking lot and out to the street. If I thought the pain in my ribs hurt only seconds ago, I didn't know anything. With every breath, I stumbled from the pain that shot through me. White pinpricks of light appeared before my eyes as I matched Taj's pace as we raced down the street away from the hospital.

As predicted, the sound of sirens blared through the morning air far behind us. And the final shot of pain had me down and out, sprawled out across the sidewalk. Exhausted, I couldn't find the energy to even attempt to lift myself off of the ground. Taj skidded to a stop a few feet in front of me before he turned back and go down at my side, looking down the street nervously.

"C'mon Brooke, you gotta get up." Taj urged, wrapping my right arm around his neck and pulling me up from the ground.

"Taj, just go." I instructed him, not refusing his help up.

"I'm not gonna abandon you like this." Taj said with resolution in his voice, taking out his cellphone and speed dialing a number. "Jen? Hey, I need you to come meet me a couple blocks down from Desert Palm Hospital, ASAP." Taj eased me away from the sidewalk toward a house's backyard. "Jen, this is serious. I need you to get down here like now, Jen. It's Brooke. Is that enough said?" Juggling the cellphone between his shoulder and ear, he lifted me up and over the wire fence and into a thick bush. "Okay, thank you."

Hanging up, he shoved the phone back into his pocket. "Jen's gonna be here soon."

"Taj, just go!" I urged him. "I'll be fine."

"A'ight, go to the Usual Spot. I'll be there waiting." Taj promised. "I love you."

I was taken aback by his words that I never replied before he began running, the sound of the sirens growing louder and the red and blue lights illuminating the streets as the squad cars raced the streets in search of us two. His closing comment rang through my head as the cop cars raced pass me.

_I love you too.

* * *

_

Sara's POV:

I wasn't sure whether to be outraged with Brooke or worried about her. I sat in the backseat of the squad car with my younger brother, Officers Johnson and Carlson in the front seats pursuing my best friend and younger sister. There was no single emotion that could be said to describe what I was feeling at this moment. Betrayal was definitely one, and concern was a surefire other. Anger was mixed somewhere inside me now, and with anger came annoyance that I'd been lied to by the people that were supposed to be honest to me.

_Well, it doesn't help that you're in law._ My conscience reasoned. _If they are doing something illegal, you wouldn't particularly be the first person they'd go running to now._

Every time I stared across at Jay, he'd turn his head away out of guilt. Although I knew that I should be directing some of my emotions toward him, I couldn't bring myself to scold him.

"_I'm sorry."_ Jason soon signed. _"Don't be angry with me."_

"I'm not Jay..." I assured the mute boy. "Just tell me the truth. What are you guys involved in?"

Jay clammed up. _"I can't tell you. I really can't."_

"Jay, there won't be repercussions if you tell me. We can put you guys under protection if that's what this is all about." I kept throwing out blind suggestions about something I had no idea about.

"_Sara."_ Jay paused. _"I just can't tell you. You're not supposed to know. No one is. I'm not even supposed to know."_

"Jay." I said firmly. "If you don't tell me, you're gonna be in as much trouble as Brooke and Taj are in now."

There was a moment's hesitance in the albino boy as a fear flashed behind his eyes. But the look that followed that one was a sure one. _"Then so be it. I refuse to talk."_

_Just great,_ I thought to myself. _I can't even get my family to be truthful to me anymore.

* * *

_

Brooke's POV:

Long after the sirens had gotten out of earshot and the pain subsided to a dull throb every several seconds, I managed to claw my way up to my feet using the fence as my support. Jen would be here any moment, and there was no way she could see me in those bushes. Beside, I'm sure the people who occupied this house would appreciate me ruining there wonderful bush any longer.

Flopping over the fence, I used it again to get to my feet. When I was sure that I wouldn't fall over, I walked to the curb and plopped down on it. I sighed and grunted when I saw my Nissan Skyline pull up in front of me not even three whole seconds after I seated myself. Alex and Kylie hopped out of the passenger seat and were at my side in an instant.

"Auntie Brooke! What happened?!" Kylie questioned as she helped her brother get me back on my feet.

"Nothing baby." I lied to her, getting into the passenger seat.

The two kids scrambled across my lap and into the backseat, busying themselves with soothing a crying Roxas. It was to no avail. Instructing Alex to pass Roxas to me, I cradled the baby in my arms well above my damaged ribs and hushed him gently. Seeing through the dark of the car, Roxas finally recognized me and settled down, falling asleep within minutes of Jen taking off.

"I'm not even gonna bother to ask what happened. Just tell me where you need to go." Jen's voice was blank, masking her emotions.

"The Usual Spot." I replied. "Taj is supposed to be there if they didn't catch him."

"He's quicker than quick." Jen commented. "He'll make it."

The ride was silent. Something was troubling Jen, I just knew it. Call it the Mother's sixth sense. You can always tell when something is wrong with someone you care about. "What's wrong?"

Startled by my sudden question, it took Jen a second or two to process it. "It's Eric."

Having my undivided attention now, I gazed at Jen intently. "Don't tell me he showed up tonight."

"No, he didn't." Jen shook her head. "He called."

"What did he say? I swear, if he threatened you, I'm gonna..." I refrained from completing my threat while in the presence of the children.

"He did." Jen's facade crumbled down with the shaky breath she drew in. "But that wasn't all... He said... God, he said that he got to BJ and that if you or I didn't wise up soon that he'd come after Taj, you, me, and the kids." Jen's voice cracked, breaking down in tears instantly.

Numbness. One word, what I was feeling. Jen couldn't have possibly meant that BJ was dead. There was just no way. BJ, Blaze... _Our_ Blaze. The goodhearted, loving, and tough Blaze who had a wife and a child on the way in less than a month. There was no way that he could be gone.

There was no way I could respond to that comment. I was too hurt for words, and too furious to even start the long string of curses and threats that usually ran out my mouth when Eric or anyone pissed me off to this extent. But there was just one surefire thought that circled my mind over and over.

I was gonna kill Eric and whoever else did this to Blaze. And not a damn soul was gonna stop me.

**TBC...

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**

A/N2: How's that for updating? Huh? HUH?! Lol. Hey, quick PA... I just posted a one-shot, Butterfly Kisses, could you please read&review? Haha, yes Chloe, I know you already have. Lol And check out this girl's work, **forensicsgirl97**! They are the shit!

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	22. Dealing With Eric & Godchildren

A/N: Update! Huh? Huh? How's that for your apple pie! Thank you for all the reviews! I love them! Oh, and I think you'll like this chapter **odeepblue**. :-) And Chloe, this is the chapter you wanted! Lol And warning, this chapter changes POV's like Diddy changes clothes, so make sure you pay attention or else you're gonna get very confused.

Disclaimer: See past chapters. Pick a chapter, any chapter.

* * *

Chapter 22: Dealing With Eric & Godchildren

* * *

Sara's POV:

Storming back into CSI, I passed a very wary eyed Judy behind the desk and Nick Stokes who was talking to her about something or other. I didn't take the time to acknowledge either of them fully, in search of Brass now. I had stopped by PD when our search for Brooke and Taj reached a dead end and decided to take matters into my own hands. The receptionist at PD told me that Brass was at CSI and had only left about a minute ago.

"Hey Sara!" Nick called after me, catching up. "How was the visit? Is everything okay?"

"No Nick. Everything is far from okay." I claimed through gritted teeth, my anger peaking with Brooke.

"Sara, will you slow down for a sec?" Nick pleaded when I began to outpace him. "Hey!"

"I have to find Brass." I informed him, never slowing down. In fact, after I said that, I began to walk even faster in search of the homicide detective.

"He's in Grissom's office talking to him." Nick stopped in his tracks, knowing I wasn't going to stop.

"Thanks." I mumbled, turning the corner and walking to the end of the corridor to Grissom's office.

Calming down enough to not go barging in on their conversation, I knocked on the frame of the door and waited outside impatiently. Both men turned their eyes to me, Grissom behind his desk and Brass in the seat in front of the desk. Grissom waved me in, standing up on sight of me.

"Sara, what can I help you with?" Grissom greeted in his best supervisor tone.

"I need to talk to Brass, actually." I said, mirthless about my words.

"Sure kiddo..." Brass threw a look over his shoulder at Grissom before exiting the office. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to find the location of Brooke Waters, ASAP." I requested.

"Your friend?" Brass's eyes furrowed together. "I would've figured that you knew..."

"I don't, but I need to." I cut him off. "Please Brass, this is important."

With a sigh and a shrug, Brass nodded. Entering Grissom's office again, he told Grissom that he would be back later, promising to pick the conversation up again. "C'mon, let's go." He told me, leading me out of the building and back to PD.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Even when I arrived at the Usual Spot and passed Justin at the entrance with a faint hello, I couldn't truly talk. The news of Blaze's death had me rendered helpless now, and I was dreading with each step interacting with Taj again. It was just like staring at Blaze.

Jen had dropped me off and told me to come back to the house whenever. She understood that I would need some time to process this and also knew that her house would be the first place for the police to check. Jen promised to call after the police left if I wasn't back before then.

Walking through the hallways which were elaborately designed and furnished with red velvety carpet and black with gold trim wallpaper, I found my way into the "meeting room". This was the room where we had our team meeting and planned our next move on D.I.S.'s crew. The long, polished wooden table had at least twenty chairs along its edges. Soft music played through the surround sound system, quiet classical piano music. Off to the right of the room was the bar, where I saw a lone person hunched over the counter with a beer in his hand.

Taj.

Our resident barkeep was cleaning a glass cup with his rag, tidying up around his station. I approached Taj carefully, my footfalls muffled by the thick carpet. How the Hell was I gonna tell him?

Resting my hand lightly on his shoulder, I rubbed it gently when he looked up at me. I was surprised when Taj shot up from his seat and enveloped me in a hug. Over Taj's shoulder, I saw the barkeep throw me a smug glance before he carried on with his duties.

"You're a'ight." Taj claimed. "I was getting worried about you."

"Nah..." I managed, clearing my throat. "I'm a'ight."

"What's wrong?" Taj pulled back, still holding me in his arms.

I couldn't even look at him for any longer than two seconds. The thought of Blaze ran through my mind like blood through my veins. "Blaze is dead." I whispered.

"What?" The response I got was as if I'd just committed blasphemy around an extreme Christian. "What do you mean, 'Blaze is dead'? How do you know? Who told you?"

Lowering my head and remaining silent was all I could seem to do. My mind still couldn't wrap around the fact.

"Brooke! Don't mess with me like this! Who told you?!" Taj raised his voice, shaking me slightly.

God knows how much of a bond him and Blaze had. Sure, they had their difficulties as kids, but what siblings didn't? Not all multiple children households are like the Brady Bunch. Especially not a third class colored family living in the ghettos of Brooklyn in the 1980s.

When I still couldn't find the words to answer Taj, he pulled me into another hug and held onto me like a life preserver. Never once in my life had I seen Taj reduced to tears until now. I even ignored the pain in my ribs when Taj clung to me tighter. Burying my face into his powerful chest, I wrapped my own arms around him, rubbing his back soothingly. Tears stung my eyes, but I held them back figuring I had to be tough for Taj who had been tough for me in the past – in our childhood.

It was only a couple minutes later when Taj was finished, ashamed that he'd actually spilled tears in front of me. I reassured him that it was all right, telling him that he had every right to cry. I eventually got out what Taj had questioned me about before his break down. I could see the fury building behind his glistening blue eyes, an uncontrollable fire burning inside. And when it was all said and done, I saw the resolution clear as day in his eyes. He was after the same thing as I was.

"C'mon... If we're lucky, we'll be there before he is." Taj said, downing his beer and slamming it down on the counter.

* * *

Sara's POV:

"Snakeback territory?" I said with a sense of shock. "Why is she living in the slums of Vegas?"

Brass gave an honest shrug. "Now listen... I'm not gonna have to send back up after you to make sure you're gonna be all right, correct? Please tell me you're gonna wait until sunrise to go after her."

"Brass, by sunrise, she could be all the way out of the US." I proclaimed, snatching the piece of paper he had scribbled the address on. "I need to talk to her _now_."

"Sara, you be careful out there." Brass gave me a deathly serious look and tone. "Snakeback land is _not_ a place you want to go wandering about in the dark."

"I'll be fine Brass." I ensured the homicide detective. "Thank you again."

"Sure thing." I heard him call when I left his office.

It was a long shot that Brooke would return to her house, but it was the only thing I had to go off of for now. Hailing a cab, I blurted out the directions and saw the taxi driver visibly gulped, obviously knowing he'd be going through Snakeback territory.

I felt guilty myself now, driving off toward Brooke's house. I felt bad enough with Jay, who was now being held in an interrogation room. I had no choice in the matter. He wasn't cooperating and giving information. It was the officers that took him in, and were holding him there. I felt like I was betraying my family. I couldn't even look at Jay's pleading face when Officer Johnson took him away. And now Brooke and Taj were about to have the same thing done to them.

_How the Hell do I chose?_

If I don't report them, that's aiding a criminal and I'll subsequently lose my job. If I do report them, I'm betraying and killing the trust between my family, the only people that truly gave a damn about me for years now. Then again, it wasn't like they weren't already digging a grave for our trust by not telling me the truth.

_That doesn't mean that I still won't feel guilty about it._

I blew out a heavy sigh, glancing out the window. It began to rain outside. Downpour after several minutes, but not a supersaturated rain that normally caused our mudslides and flooding. The rain echoed inside the car as it hit the roof of the car.

The sound of the rain soothed me, momentarily making me docile to the events in my life right now. Well... At least that was a bright spot about everything.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Just as Taj and I pulled up to the house, it began to downpour with rain. And the first thing I noticed was Eric's car parked directly in front of Taj's car. My heart slammed into my chest faster and faster as I jumped out of the car, looking toward the house now. With my auditory sense heightened from adrenaline again, I heard the yells of Jen and Eric. And partially to my relief, the three children were sitting on the porch steps in a row, depressed looking.

Rushing up, Taj reached them before I did. I couldn't walk any further when I caught sight of Roxas and Alex. Alex sported two black eyes and was cradling his arm with care, while Roxas had red hand prints on his neck and had a small black eye of his own on his right eye along with a cut across his chubby cheek.

_He better not have._

Kylie was crying, shaken up but physically fine. Roxas had tear stains of his own which had long since dried up, and Alex just had a pissed off look about him. Taj inspected the children in horror, asking them if Eric had done this to them.

"He snatched Rox by the throat and I distracted him." Alex told Taj. "Roxas fell and smacked his eye against the table and he shook me so hard he broke my arm and shoved me against the wall so that I hit my face and got these black eyes."

"Then Mom came up and shoved him back and told us to get outta the house." Kylie said through her tears and cracking voice.

Taj shrugged off his jacket and enveloped all three of them inside it, shielding them from the rain. I simply stood there dumbfounded for a moment more at the fact that he had even touched my baby. My fists shook as I clenched them closed, and all of my pent up hatred and fury toward the man in question – the man that was inside that house this very second – all exploded in one huge firestorm as I stormed up the steps and busted the door in.

"YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!"

* * *

Grissom's POV:

I sat back in my chair, stretching my stiff limbs and heard the pop of my joints. I had been robotically working on my paperwork and I realized that I was going to finally get a break from it when Brass came walking in my office.

"Jim." I greeted. "What was it that Sara needed?"

"I think you might wanna follow her." He tossed a slip of paper with an address scribbled on it in front of me. "She's going after Brooke, and that is Snakeback territory my friend."

Eyes widened, I stood immediately and snatched the offending piece of paper. I read the address before I grabbed my jacket off of the hook and exited my office without a moment's hesitation.

I almost never used my authority figure to get through traffic beside the emergencies. In my mind, though, this _was_ an emergency.

* * *

Sara's POV:

"YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!"

That was the welcome comment and voice when I stepped out of the cab, paid the fare and watched him drive off as fast as he could.

"Taj!" I called out over the deafening rain to the man that was covering three small children with his jacket.

Jogging up to him and toward the house now which Brooke had just broken into seconds ago, I was quick to note the black eyes on the two boys of the children and a red hand print on the throat of the baby of the group. Something hitched in my throat, not only seeing the abuse these children had been put through, but the fact that when I locked eyes with the baby with the electric blue eyes, it was like I was staring at a male and infant version of Brooke.

_Brooke has a child?_

Taj lifted all three children into his arms and began carrying them off down to the street. His eyes met mine and seemed to take several steps back as if I would rip his head off like a starved lioness any minute now. The guilt came back double time, but I had no time to ponder over this. Brooke was about to do something that she would eventually regret.

Taj simply rushed pass me, opening the passenger seat to a black Porsche, he set the children down inside, whispered something to them and then closed the door. The sound of the door slamming shut was enough to snap me out of my trance and pull out my cellphone. Dialing for the police, I told them the residence and that I required assistance for a domestic violence call.

Inside, I heard the crash and thumps of Brooke's fight, but it wasn't long until the fight was brought outside, a man wailing in agony as he came crashing through the window.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Barging into the house and turning into the kitchen, I saw Eric pinning Jen against the wall by her neck, transforming her into a purple plum from the lack of oxygen circulating through her brain now. Looking to my right, I noticed Jen had been boiling water for macaroni on the stove previous to Eric intruding.

_Duly noted._

"Get off of her!" I shouted, rearing up my foot for a punt between his spread legs.

Both Jen and Eric collapsed to the ground, Jen coughing a fit and Eric squirming in complete and utter discomfort, to say the least. Jen managed to crawl into the living room while I dealt with the likes of Eric. He was now the one pinned against the wall, my hand wrapping around his neck with all of my strength fueled by epinephrine.

"Where do you get off by killing Blaze, and threatening to do the same to me, the kids, Jen, and Taj?" I growled menacingly. "And you put hands on my son, too? Along with your _own_ kid?!" I slammed his head into the plaster wall, denting it with ease. "WRONG MOVE!"

This time when I slammed Eric's head into the wall, it broke a hole through it and he slid to the floor. What I didn't expect, as I was about to continue my assault on him, was for someone _else_ to be creeping up behind me and helping him out by snatching me by the back of my shirt and throwing me backwards into a wall.

Forcing myself up, I lunged at the unknown man as I heard his footsteps growing closer in a tackle technique that football players would use. It hardly had an affect on the man when he seized me by both of my biceps and lifted me until my head banged into the ceiling. I writhed, trying to escape his iron hold grasp, but was gasping in pain when he began pressing my arms firmly into my sides, disturbing my broken ribs.

"LET ME GO!" I screamed, swinging my feet in his head's general direction.

My shoes made contact several times but just like my tackle, it barely affected him. He was inhuman!

I heard Eric laughing in the background as he finally came to, rubbing the back of his head tenderly. "Brooke, meet my sumo Negro! It's over for you now."

_Where's Taj?_

The light from the suspended light on the ceiling began to blind me, but I thanked God it was there. Hoisting my feet up, kicked the riggity light hard enough to have it collapse on top of my captor's bald head, making him sway from the heavy brass and glass that it consisted of. Stumbling to the floor and was greeted with the sight of Eric retrieving his gun from his waistline, getting a clean shot at my head.

Without even thinking, I reached over to the stove and grabbed the boiling pot of water and, in one swift move, I tossed the contents of the pot in the general direction of Eric. To my sick contention, it all landed on his face and upper torso.

He dropped to the floor in sheer agony, tearing at his face with his nails trying to get the water off of him to the point that he was tearing his skin apart. I took the advantage, after dropping the burning metal pot on top of my previous attacker's face, and seized Eric by the shirt, dragging him toward the window. Giving it all I had, I threw him out of the window and house face first.

Perching up on the now broken window, I jumped down and hopped over the porch's guard railing to get to the still wailing and burnt Eric. Just briefly and faintly, I heard Sara's voice calling out to me just after I punted Eric in the side to add onto the pain he is totally feeling.

"That's what you get for hurting my kid and godchildren!" I hollered at him, not quite finished with my revenge just yet. "And this is for Blaze!" Another blow was made to his stomach now. "And this is for Jen!" Stomping on his ribs, I was sure I felt at least three of them snap like twigs. "And _this_..."

I never got to finish before Sara came ramming into me, tackling me to the sopping wet ground and pinning me there. "Brooke! Stop!"

Easily knocking her off of me, not roughly but just enough to do the job, I jumped to my feet when I saw Eric trying to crawl away, gradually getting to his feet with great difficulty. Taj was thinking along the same lines as me when I noted that he was now going for Eric at a full force sprint. Easily catching up to his side, I body checked him into the oncoming freight train known as Taj who slammed a haymaker punch right into his third degree burned face, knocking him cold to the ground.

"And _that's_ for all the times you hit and hospitalized Brooke!" Taj completed what I had immediately set out to say.

But my anger still wasn't finished on the beaten down man, or what once was one. I continued my hatred in the form of assault on him, but once more, Sara interfered by shoving me backwards and into the ground.

Rushing to my feet and getting so close to Sara's face that our noses were touching, she remained unflinching against my menacing self. "Sara! Stop defending this guy! He killed BJ and is a good-for-nothing wife-beater and child abuser!"

Her expression softened and she moved back. But something reinforced inside of her just as I was about to go at Eric again, and she shoved me backwards. "Then we'll get him with the law and have him locked up where he can get abused by the other inmates! If you keep doing this, then you're gonna be in more trouble than you're already in."

Even Taj had halted his attack on Eric and I tried to stare Sara down. It was a pointless endeavor. But just when I thought it would be all said and done, cop sirens off in the distance sounding off again, a sharp whistle came from Eric's body and then all Hell broke lose. As it turned out, three men were hiding in the woods across the street waiting for this signal to aid Eric. And one was coming up right behind Sara with a hammer in hand and ready to attack her. Shoving her aside, I stole the raised hammer away and reversed it on the attacker.

That's the way we remained, fighting and defending ourselves until the cops pulled up to the house. I had half a mind to run now, but I had a hunch that if I ran this time, it might not make it. One of the three guys that attacked us tried to make a run for it, but he was the first one apprehended.

Well, I didn't need them telling me what to do. I knew the whole routine, and I could already hear my Miranda Rights being told to me along with the feeling of cold metal clasping my wrists together, and the cops weren't even within arm's length of me. I got on my knees, hands behind my head and slowly lowered myself to the ground as the officers ran up to hand cuff me and Taj. Quick hands frisked me in search of a weapon and found my pistol in my waistline.

"Do you have a permit for this?"

"No."

A short investigation was held where everyone at the scene was interrogated. It eventually led to Eric being sent to the hospital via ambulance, along with the man who had the hammer and that sumo wrestler sized man inside Jen's house with a circular third degree burn on his face. The remaining man from the ambush was arrested before anyone else for assaulting the officer who arrested him, and Taj was put into the squad car before me.

I had no reason to lie to the officer, and when he found out that I was Brooke Waters, he pretty much read me my rights right then and there. I looked around the scene now under the lights of the sirens. In the doorway, Jen was being interrogated by another officer, looking as if she was about to pass out. Her eyes met mine and even through the heavy rain, I could see she was crying. Another officer had discovered the kids in Taj's car and was now trying to pry information out of them. Roxas continually called out for me, in unison with Alex and Kylie. And just a few minutes before my official arrest, another car had pulled up and out stepped Grissom. I saw his eyes sweep over the scene before he finally went to Sara's side, pulling her into an embrace.

I looked away with shame.

"You are under arrest for the possession of an illegal firearm, two counts assault, fleeing the scene, resisting arrest, and property damage. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say while under this right can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, the court will provide you one for your trial." The officer began to lead me to his squad car. "Do you understand these rights?"

"Yes I do." _I've been read them enough times in my life to fill out a collection of books with just that mantra._

I was forced to walk pass Grissom and Sara on my trek to the squad car. I told the officer that I needed to speak with Sara for a quick second, and with reluctance he granted me less than a minute.

"Sara... Please, don't let those kids go to DSS workers. That baby is your godchild, and those other two are my godchildren." I told her. "That woman up there," I nodded in Jen's direction. "is gonna hafta go to the hospital and the DSS workers will be all over those kids if someone doesn't take them. Please Sara. I'm begging you."

Sara seemed to hesitate at first but when she glanced over at the kids, her fears slipped away with ease. "I will, Brooke. I promise." Sara promised just as the officer announced my time was up and dragged me off.

"Watch your head." He advised, lowering me into the backseat next to Taj.

I watched out of the window as Sara walked over to the sitting children, gazing at me with a longing to be near me. I saw Roxas's eyes tear up once more while Alex already had his sister in his arms, rubbing her back comfortingly. Sara squatted down in front of the shaking children, soaking wet and muddy, and began talking to them. Probably to explain the predicament and that they were to go with her. Alex looked up at me, and I silently nodded, telling him she was a good person and to be trust.

_Sara may be a cop, and probably called this in on me..._ I thought with a small hint of bitterness. _But she just completely redeemed herself by taking my kids._

And with that, the squad car pulled off.

**TBC...

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**

A/N2: So, what'd I tell ya, **odeepblue**? How's that for action/adventure? And sorry Chloe, I couldn't kill Eric, but torture and forcing them to live is so much more sweet.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	23. Roxas & Minions

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! I love you! If I had enough money, I'd probably buy an engagement ring for all of you! (Hahaha, just wait for your X-mas present, Chloe... Just wait. XD)

Disclaimer: See past chapters. Pick a chapter, any chapter.

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Chapter 23: Roxas & Minions

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Sara's POV:

"What's gonna happen to Auntie Brooke, Sara?" The oldest boy, Alex, questioned me as we walked over toward Grissom.

Swallowing became a difficult task for me in my attempt to reply. "She might be going to jail." I suddenly turned and squat down in front of the children. "Is there anything you need before I bring you to my house?"

Alex and his younger sister, Kylie, nodded shyly. The poor girl couldn't stop crying for the life of her. After an attending paramedic made patchwork of Alex's broken arm with a splint, I instructed them to go into the house to collect whatever they needed. I took the baby from Alex's slim arms. Balancing him on my hip, I made the rest of my walk over to Grissom's side. I was still taken over with awe at the child. It was a replica of Brooke, with some minor appearances that must've been from the baby's Father.

_I wonder who it is?_ I wondered genuinely at the question.

The baby regarded me in a somewhat dilatory fashion, like I was someone not to trust. It took him a while, but eventually he gave up the fight to read me through my eyes and rested his head against my shoulder. His feather soft chestnut hair tickled the side of my neck by the way it naturally stood up in a spiked direction that reminded me slightly of Greg's old hair. Inside, it slightly hurt to know that even below the age of two that this baby already had a built-in defensive wall toward people.

"Roxas." Beside me, I silently heard Grissom whisper.

Moving my head in his direction, I gave him an inquiring look. "How do you know his name?"

For some odd reason, panic flashed through his eyes one quick time before he responded. "He has a dog tag around his neck stating his name for one."

Looking down and around the baby's neck, on a beaded chain hung a simple silver dog tag reading, ROXAS. Settling for it, I cradled him against me even more when I heard the sound of sniffling coming from him. I had only hoped it was from the cold, but when I felt warm streaks of tears run down my cold and drenched shirt, my heart broke even more for Roxas.

The rain had seemed to stop after everyone was apprehended and arrested. Now was the aftermath of the storm, both literally and metaphorically. The woman who Alex and Kylie both belonged to was shipped off to Desert Palm Hospital, much to her arguments that she was fine. It wasn't until she passed out that she was successfully transported to the hospital in the ambulance. Kylie and Alex came walking out of the house with several things clung to their chest dearly, turning their head away when they saw their Mother being hoisted onto a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance as they returned to me. Turning their head up at Grissom, they regarded him in the same way Roxas had just looked at me – a look of caution.

"It's all right. He's a good guy too." I vouched for him. "We call him Grissom."

Alex's face scrunched up slightly at the sound of his name. "Grissom? That's a weird name."

Grissom shrugged, throwing down a friendly half smile. "My real name is Gilbert or Gil."

Kylie's face lit up immediately. "I used to have a teacher in first grade who's name was Mr. Gilbert!"

"Yeah, but he was really mean." Alex then turned to eye Grissom down. "He used to flip out like mad on us for doing so much as breathing too loudly."

"I can assure you that I'm not anything like your old teacher. And you can breathe as loud as you want around me." Grissom chuckled beneath his breath.

Smiling at Grissom's interactions with the children, I started a slow walk to a cab that I'd called for just several minutes ago. Behind me, I heard Grissom herding the kids toward the cab, now starting a conversation on their first grade experiences with Grissom tentatively listening.

With all five of us cramming into the backseat of the cab, I gave my address to the cabbie. Roxas had now fallen asleep against me, tears still running down his chubby cheeks. Alex had Kylie seated in his lap and Grissom formed a book end enclosure on them with me at the other end. Grissom picked up the fare as the cab came to a halt outside of my apartment, even though I insisted I had it. Stepping out of the vehicle, we crossed the parking lot to get to the foyer inside of my apartments. Then came the monotonous ascent up to my apartment five flights up.

In time, we all reached to the point outside of my apartment door. It had struck me several times how I was going to manage to house two children and a baby in my small apartment, but I'd have to manage for Brooke. I had promised after all. And as for the subject of how to care for them when I was away at work? Well... That time wasn't here yet, and worst case scenario, I have to use up some of that vacation time that's pouring over the sides for me.

Providing the children with a quick tour of my house, I directed them toward my bedroom where I told them they could sleep. They seemed excited at the fact that they got to sleep in such a large bed and immediately left to go get a shower one at a time. And though it was slightly alien to me, they asked me for my permission. As they raced off, I heard them silently bickering about who would get the first shower all the way down the hall.

Laughing lightly under my breath, I pivoted toward Grissom who was shifting from one side to another. He was speculating me thoughtfully from across the room until he gradually moved closer to me, enveloping me in a hug, wary of the sleeping Roxas. I had yet to put him down this entire time; It was as if I _couldn't_.

"Are you gonna be all right?" He questioned in a low rumble of a voice.

Nodding softly, I spoke a soft, "Yeah."

Pulling back now but still holding his hands in place on my hips, Grissom continued to look down at me. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight, or..."

"Don't you need to return to work?" I tossed up the query.

Shrugging, I knew that he knew he had to, but that didn't necessarily mean that was what he wanted anymore. "All I've got there is a pile of paperwork. Here, I have so much more."

Kissing him briefly, I pulled a smile on just for him. "Of course I want you to stay. Wouldn't dream of having it any other way."

About to steal another kiss from him, my plans were thwarted by two little children by the name of Alex and Kylie. "EW!" They emphasized the sound together.

Breaking apart suddenly, both of us blushed and then laughed at the fact that two small children were to find us out instead of our colleagues. Oh how amused will they be when they find out?

* * *

Brooke's POV:

"Shit man... We fucked up." I heard Taj moan over in the next cell adjacent to mine.

"No kidding..." I paused for a minute. "Wanna go do it again?"

"Man, wailing on Eric's punkass? I'd love to do that all hours of the day, and I wouldn't even mind paying the price for it either." Taj laughed. "I just wish everything else hadn't happened."

"Yeah, I'd like to skip Blaze's part, and Jen getting sent to the hospital." I sighed with a weight in my voice.

I just barely heard Taj's inaudible reply. "We better stop this madness soon. That cemetery is getting packed with too many people from our group." The hatred was back in his voice. "Little Bear is three spots down from Big Bear, and on space to the left of Big Bear is Lil' Mikey. And two spaces up and to the right of him is Baby Brenda!"

Drawing my knees up to my chest so that I could rest my chin on the tops of my knees, I shared a moment of silence for the whole field of lost peers we had in the national cemetery. Taj was right;We had lost far too many crew members, and Blaze's addition did nothing for us or the team. He was a valuable fighter, friend, and part of the team. Just like if it was me or the Boss that was missing from the group, things were about to fall into a very hectic state of disarray, especially with Taj and me locked up now. I was afraid to know what the crew is gonna be like when they find all of this out.

Then it struck me. How could I have possibly forgotten?

Jumping to my feet, I rushed to my gate, wrapping my hands around the cold steel bars. "Hey! When do I get my one phone call?"

In a short amount of time, I was granted my one phone call and I called the one person that could get both Taj and me outta here quicker than lightening. The only person that was above my Boss... His Boss. The big men upstairs. The geniuses that had me out here working my ass off and getting beat on by guys three times my size.

"Hey... I'm in a jam, and unless you want everything lost that we've been working on for the last half a year, you better find a way to bail Taj and me out." I spoke into the phone, turning away from the officer.

"Brooke, what the Hell..." His annoyed voice actually made my day. "I sent you out there to redeem yourself, not make things worse."

"Yeah yeah, whatever man. But unless you want the crew's ass to get royally messed, you will work your magic and get us outta here and not put on the stand." I stressed.

"All right, I could have your lawyer work with the DA about dealing with this privately." I heard the creaking of his chair as he sat back. "Maybe you could get away with community service or probation at best. Depending who the DA is and how 'cooperative' they are, it could be better or worse. But I'll talk to your lawyer for you."

Growling in a low tone, I considered every aspect of that deal. "Fine. Do it. That's better than rotting in some jail cell."

"Great doing business with you too Brooke." His sarcastic tone was followed by the dial tone.

Walking back into the jail cell, I plopped right down where I'd been before.

"Is it a done deal?"

"Of course. I have him wrapped around my finger like a promise ring." I snickered in response to Taj's question.

Laughing briefly, Taj gave his only remark to that statement. "Well, with looks like yours and a body like yours, I can't imagine any guy that isn't wrapped around your finger."

* * *

Sara's POV:

After everyone had gotten a shower and had some type of pajamas on, it was beginning to look like we were going to call it a night. Settling the two children into my bed with Roxas between the two of them, I ritualistically tucked them in per Kylie's request. Alex briefly explained that Kylie couldn't get to sleep unless someone tucked her in, whispering about her abandonment issues playing a key role in that. I was happy to comply, whispering a goodnight through the dark abyss that was my bedroom to the children before closing the door until it was slightly ajar to allow light from the hallway to spill into the room. Returning to the living room, I saw Grissom with his head propped up on his hand that was on the armrest relaxing back on my couch, steel blue eyes closed serenely.

It amused me that if it wasn't for our job, we'd constantly be tired and fatigued like this at late hours in the night and morning like normal people. That theory was making its grand appearance right now as I observed Grissom on the couch.

Tiptoeing across the padded carpet and over to Grissom, I saw him crack open a lazy blue eye at me as I sat down beside him, inspecting the clump of mass that had situated itself beside him. Registering me as Sara Sidle, Grissom enveloped and drew me to him with his free arm that wasn't holding up his head. Snuggling up to his side and resting my head upon my shoulder, I pulled my legs underneath me as I settled in with a content sigh.

_No matter how wrong things are in the world, at least right here with him everything feels so right._

"We're probably going to fall asleep like this." Grissom mumbled out, his voice far away with drowsiness.

Giving a long string of sounds that were supposed to pass off for a sentence was his only reply out of me, occupying myself with burying my face deeper into his chest to inhale his scent. "S'ok."

Against the crown of my head, I felt his lips upturn in a small smile. "You're right. I just don't want to wake up tomorrow actually _feeling_ my age."

Despite already being comfortable and half asleep at that moment, I turned my head up and inspected him through lazy, half opened brown eyes. I grinned once I kissed him again and then reacquainted myself with his warm, pillow-like chest.

_I love being able to do that whenever I want._ I thought licking my lips, still feeling the tingle of his lips on mine

"Stop criticizing your age." I lightly admonished him. "I love you just the way you are."

* * *

Brooke's POV:

The free ride to my arraignment was only half recognized in the back of the cruiser as I sat there hand cuffed. These truly did get tiresome, but they were required. Oh I could just jump for joy at the thought of getting thrown in front of yet _another_ judge.

The wait for my arraignment held more of a recognition than the ride did. For the most part, I just sat outside taking an occasional puff of a cigarette from a guy I knew beside me. It always seemed like this guy and I had our arraignments on the same day.

"So, what are you here for now?" I said, passing the cigarette back to him.

"DUI."

"Nice." I coughed, the smoke aggravating my lungs.

It wasn't too often when I lit up with a cigarette, but when I did, it was a tell-tale sign that I was stressed and another "substance" wasn't available. This was one of those times.

"Let me guess... Assault again? Or maybe disturbing the peace like last time?" He snickered, exhaling a ring of smoke.

Pushing out a dry laugh, I slowly responded after the laugh subsided. "So much more."

He let out a soft hum before offering the cigarette back. I refused it, claiming I was set. One last drag was made before he tossed it on the ground and extinguished the smoking tip with the sole of his shoes. Blowing out another ring, he pushed himself off of the wall we were leaning against to go back inside.

"I presume I'll see you back here within the month?" One chuckle was made before he disappeared into the court house.

A smirk was left on my lips long afterwards. _Hopefully you're not right this time._

"Well... I figured you'd be here."

Shooting my eyes up from the ground, I found myself looking at Gil Grissom approaching me with his hands shoved into his pockets. My eyes flew about the scene in front of me in search of Sara, but to no avail. Removing myself from the stone wall as well, I joined him in his stance several feet away.

"Sara okay?"

"Sara's just fine. She's strong enough to take in almost any scene and continue on." Gil noted with a grim up turn of his lips that could be qualified as a smile.

"Yeah, she always has been." I agreed with an equally grim look. "What about the kids? How's Sara managing with those three? I realize I kinda just dumped the responsibilities on her real heavy but..." Giving a dull gesture to the court house to explain my next sentence, I continued. "I kinda had things going on."

"You can ask one of them yourself." Stepping to the right and backwards slightly,Gil exposed a very bashful Kylie who had her hands behind her back and keeping her head down.

Doesn't take long to make her look up though. As soon as her eyes landed on me, she ran for my legs, wrapping her slim arms around them tightly. "Auntie Brooke!"

"Hey Ky!" I cracked out, bending down and squatting to her level to hug her. "How's it going with Sara?"

"She kinda reminds me of you in a way, Auntie..." Kylie admitted. "But she doesn't sing us to sleep like you do when you're not out doing business."

"I know baby, I know..." Brushing my hand over her loosely braided hair, I forced a real smile up for her. "But I promise, I'm gonna try and make things up to y'all, a'ight?"

"That's what you said last time." Kylie mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"But now I'm gonna make it happen." I bit the inside of my lip as I felt guilt creep upon me. "You just gotta help out by behaving for Sara, and getting your brother and Rox to cooperate too."

"All right." Kylie nodded, still not able to reconnect our eye contact.

Slipping her into a hug, it was brief for my arraignment was up now. Getting to my feet, I nodded a goodbye to Gil and waved a goodbye to Kylie as I walked back in. Midway through the doorway, I felt a bone-chilling feeling overtake me when a guy passed me on his way out. Eyes bore into my back that made me shift uncomfortably for a change, and that frightened me. Turning around, I narrowed my bi-colored eyes at the sight.

It was one of Lady Heather's minions. One of the guys from the fight. His arm was done up in a cast and splint, glaring into the backs of Grissom and Kylie as they made their way to the car, unaware of the gaze. The minion threw a sadistic look back over his shoulder at me just as he was covering up his eyes with a pair of sunglasses and walking away.

A fire shot up through my veins at the sight of him and for the circumspect part of me that was wary about that look he just tossed my way. I didn't like it at all. It made me want to tell Gil to be careful on his drive back. It made me want to waste that jackass right here and now and get arrested on a murder charge just to make myself feel better. But I couldn't do anything as I was pulled along by the cop that'd called me.

"C'mon, c'mon. Let's go."

I was dragged into the court room, and though my body was at the arraignment, my mind was miles away basking in an area of worry.

**TBC...

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**

A/N2: Gotta love those damn minions, huh **odeepblue**? Because you know where there's minions, there's trouble! And where there's trouble, there's action! And where there's _action_... (Little brother knocks me out and runs away. Him: Yay!) Well, holla at me.

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	24. Bail, Necessities, & Carjacking

A/N: Love the reviews, worship the reviews, die for the reviews! Thank you! Sorry for the lateness in updates... :-( Holidays had me rushing everywhere for everyone. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!! Lol.

Disclaimer: See past chapters. Pick a chapter, any chapter.

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Chapter 24: Bail, Necessities, & Carjacking

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Sara's POV:

"How much is bail?"

"_Three hundred dollars, Miss Sidle."_ The woman with a nasally voice responded yet again, clarifying what I'd previously heard. _"Or you could just wait until her goes to her arraignment. I think they might already be there."_

"What about a Teague James?"

"_Two hundred dollars."_ The woman replied.

_Five hundred dollars to get my best friend and my sister out of jail._ I reasoned internally.

"All right. Thank you." I said, a deflated aspect to my voice.

"You're welcome Miss Sidle. Have a good day." _Click._

"How much?" Alex asked, slowly coming in from the hallway.

For a minute there, I wasn't sure how I should respond or even if he was talking about the same subject as me. And there was something unnerving about his tone. An _expectant_ tone, if that was fair to say.

Obviously, I'd let my silence and confusion carry on for too long for I was graced with an eye roll as Alex meandered around the couch and sat down next to me. "I'm not stupid. I know what's going on. How much is bail?"

"Five hundred dollars for both Brooke and Taj."

There was a moment where Alex went into thinking mode before briskly standing and all but running back into my room. Looking over the back of the couch out of curiosity, I saw him rummaging through his pant pockets and retrieving something. Just like Brooke, Alex came jetting down the hallway again, leaping over the back of the couch as if it were a fence he was jumping and bounced back beside me. What he presented to me made my eyes stare in amazement, double blinking more times than I could count.

Alex had a bankroll well above the amount for bail money. _Well_ over.

"How did you get so much money?" The question flew out of my mouth instinctively, wondering what the kids of this family were up to.

"I snatched this from Eric's jacket pocket when he was throwing me around." Alex explained, placing the bankroll into my hand. "I don't know how much that is, but I don't think my Dad's gonna be needing it as much as we do."

If I hadn't known that Alex wasn't Brooke's kid right off the bat, I would suspected it at this very moment in time. A genuine Robin Hood of Las Vegas.

Counting out five hundred, I found out this bankroll went well beyond five hundred, like I had suspected on sight. Not to say that it was morally correct or completely by legal points of view _right_, but it was only a hunch that Alex's Father was not one to pay his child support. That was what called for my next action of giving the rest of the money back to Alex, telling him to keep it in a safe place where he wouldn't lose it.

It was approaching one in the afternoon now, and I knew that poor Brooke wouldn't last another hour in jail without going crazy. Grissom had gone out in search for baby supplies for Roxas well before I'd even woken up. A note had been left on the coffee table reading,

_Sara,_

_It's obvious that you weren't materially prepared for children in your house, so I've taken the liberty of going out to buy the necessities. Kylie is tagging along for some of her much needed "insight" as she puts it and Roxas and Alex are still fast asleep on the bed. I'll be back shortly._

_Love,_

_Gil_

I didn't know what I should've been more surprised about: the fact that he used his real name or the fact that the endearment was "love". At any rate, it had made my lips form a mile long smile that stretched from ear to ear after reading it over and over. It was a reassurance that the chloroform fumes weren't making me hallucinate all the moments I've spent with Grissom since the night of that Police Ball.

Looking over at the other end of the couch where Roxas sat, at peace and fiddling with a string that was dangling on his shirt, I smiled again. He was adorable. Brooke must feel so lucky to have him in her life. I know I would if I was blessed with a son like him.

_Well, he **is** your Godchild._

Getting up upon hearing my stomach growl in protest to being empty, I figured the kids must've been getting hungry as well. Meandering over to my fridge, I took a peek inside only to see that baby supplies weren't the only thing I lacked in this house.

_Hmm... Let's see... Do I even have any cereal left that's not stale?_ I asked myself when I came up with nothing in the fridge.

Opening all of the cabinets, I learned that I had a lot of stale cereal boxes stuffed in the far back. Thankfully, I had at least one good box of Life in the last cabinet I checked. I was almost positive that this cereal was edible and that the milk wasn't expired. Fixing up three bowls for Roxas, Alex, and myself, I allowed us to sit on the couch instead of the breakfast island since I didn't want Roxas to accidentally lean back and fall off of the stool. Brooke would kill me. I'll kick myself in the ass for a stupid move like that. But to my surprise, while Alex had settled down and ate in silence, Roxas seemed to be observing his food in pure curiosity. Surely this hadn't been the first time a bowl of cereal had been presented to him in this form. Under Brooke's supervision, surely she must've been forced to feed him like this at one point or another.

Alex seemed to have read my mind generally as he placed his spoon down and swallowed the remaining cereal he had in his mouth. "We've never been able to afford milk since Auntie Brooke and Roxas moved in with us so he's used to eating his cereal with cold water like the rest of us."

Now that revelation hurt to know. And I'm sure if I asked Brooke, she would agree with me.

_No child or infant should know what it's like to have to eat cold water cereal. Not like Brooke, Jay, and I had to growing up._

Taking a small scoop with the spoon I'd put in Roxas's bowl, I raised it to his mouth. Of course, for him, I had watered down the milk since it was whole milk a little. It had been a myth I'd heard a while back when I was first coming to Vegas, waiting for my bags to come on the conveyor belt. And as Roxas took in the spoonful and accepted it, I'm glad I had been bored enough to listen to the babbling soon-to-be grandmother to her expecting daughter-in-law.

After his first bite, Roxas was in speed eating mode to the point I was fearful that he was going to choke. Alex insisted that this was just how he normally ate, but that didn't stop me from glancing over in between bites to make sure he was still breathing. Roxas had finished well before Alex and myself, a grin spread across his face once his stomach was content. Alex came in second, while I took up dead last. Once the dishes were cleaned, dried, and put away, I was just in time for Grissom and Kylie's grand appearance. Poor Grissom appeared exhausted while Kylie was his polar opposite.

Walking over to him to take some of the bags he was holding, I greeted him with a kiss hello and late good morning on the cheek. Setting all of the bags on top of the breakfast island, I began sorting them out. It looked like diapers and baby wipes weren't the only things Kylie had convinced him Roxas would need. Clothes were on the list as well.

_One less stress off of my back._ I couldn't help but think. _I hope it didn't kill Grissom's wallet though._

"Looks like you got a work out." I teased Grissom as he helped me.

"More like a work out and three quarters." Grissom expelled a breath in a laugh. "That little girl has too much energy and 'insight' for my tired self."

"Don't tell me this cost you a lot." I said, searching for a receipt. "I know how some kids have no concept of how much things cost."

"No Sara, it didn't cost a lot at all." Glancing up, I saw Grissom had the receipt between his middle and index finger. It had a long extension as far as I was concerned. "Trust me, my paycheck is higher than yours Miss Sidle. This doesn't even dent my wallet."

"Oh really?" I cocked an eyebrow at him, challenging him. "Let me see it then."

"No." He quipped, folding it and putting it in his back pocket, smiling back at me. "But now, I'm pretty sure your set with all of the minor things." Grissom quickly switched subjects. "Clothes that Kylie claims fits him, diapers, baby wipes, bottles and formula, baby food, and though Kylie insisted it wasn't necessary, one bib." He ran through the entire list of the general item, ending with an exhale of breath. "Sadly enough, yes, I would've been clueless as to what to search for if Kylie hadn't tagged along."

"He didn't even know where the baby aisle was until I brought him to it!" Kylie's voice wafted into the kitchen from down the hall in the bedroom.

Giving him a sympathetic smile, I began making a special spot in my cabinet to the right of my stove for all of the baby food.

"I stopped by the court house and saw Brooke waiting for her arraignment."

The formula found a comfortable spot in my bare fridge while the bib remained on the breakfast island next to the house phone. After that, I stopped as if I'd finally absorbed the meaning of the words. "She's already out? I just called to find out how much Brooke and Taj's bail was. They didn't say they were already at their arraignment."

"People do make mistakes Sara." Grissom defended with a raised eyebrow and a look from the side.

"I know..." I spoke in an exasperated tone of voice.

The remaining contents followed me down the narrow hallway to my bedroom where I placed them to the right of my bed.

Before I could even make a move to change Roxas's diaper however, Kylie was already on the job in a fraction of a second. "No worries. I'm a pro when it comes to handling Rox."

Apparently, Kylie was right. She had changed, cleaned, and redressed Roxas in about a minute flat. That beat my record growing up for having to look after Jay constantly, and the motherly aspects involved in it.

Roxas was now clad in one of the outfits that Grissom had bought, using Kylie as his eyes. White T-shirt and jeans, very suitable. Especially for any kid of Brooke's. And I had to stop myself from laughing when I saw Roxas get down from my bed and run over to where Alex sat by the window, and snatched the beanie off of his head to put it on his own. With contentment and satisfaction in his appearance, Roxas walked out to the living room with Alex tailing after him, telling him to give it back. Kylie offered no restraint from giggling as we all abandoned my bedroom for the parlor.

Leaning against the wall just before completely exiting the hallway, I watched the scene unfold before my eyes. It was a very domestic one, if I do say so myself. Roxas had sought after shelter behind Grissom, trying to pull Grissom's pant legs over his cherubic face to conceal him from Alex crossing his arm less then four feet away. Kylie now started to taunt Alex about him being a baby for not sharing his beanie. Grissom stood in the middle of the storm with a bemused expression across his face before reaching behind him to lift Roxas up and into his arms.

Though Grissom would probably reject the notion profusely, he was better with kids than he gives himself credit for. He seemed to have a comfortability with all of the children like he'd known them for years, or if they were his own. Grissom had a natural stance for holding Roxas that wasn't alien to him at all.

_Maybe he grew up with little cousins close by?_ My mind quickly proposed. _No... He seems like he might have been a solitary person when he was young._

It was a mystery all of its own, but unfortunately I didn't get to ponder it much further as there was a knock at my door but three seconds later. Pushing through the war zone, I approached my doorway and opened it, only to see a wild haired Greg Sanders standing on the other side of it.

"Hey Sara!" His smile was flashed my way before his eyes finally traveled in.

His reaction was, to say the least, astounded.

The arrival of the youngest CSI had quieted Alex down and made Kylie discontinue any taunt she had on the tip of her tongue mid-sentence. Grissom appeared slightly panicked while Roxas just held a fascinated stare at Greg's hair. I could only surmise that Greg only flattened his hair for work. Greg's saucer eyes double blinked when they finally settled on our boss standing half in my kitchen and half in my living room holding a baby. Deer in the head lights.

"Boss?" Greg managed after clearing his throat. After that, Greg struggled with the next few words, undecided what he wanted to question first, so that's when he turned to me. "Okay, now I'm really confused!"

I couldn't say for the life of me why I suddenly felt like I was getting caught in a lie or like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Just how _did_ you explain that you'd taken into three children from an abusive home and that you were going out with your boss without making all of that sound... even more eccentric than before?

"No need to be Greg." Grissom cleared his throat as well, finally reclaiming his voice. "Unfortunate circumstances for these children led to Sara taking them in temporarily and I'm simply helping as much as I can."

_Thank God you can think straight._ I said in gratitude.

"Okay..." Greg dragged the last part out a little longer to express his still existing confusion on the matter he'd just discovered.

"C'mon Greg, you know that women just can't magically give birth to children like that. They haven't invented that yet!" I claimed. "So, is there a reason to this visit or are you just dropping by to say hi?"

Shaking his head to clear the puzzlement, he focused on me instead of the scene behind me. "Just to say hi and see if you wanted to go catch a movie with me, but I can see you're a little busy..."

"Children do have a tendency to take up your time, Greg." I smirked at him, thinking of the statement.

"I see." Greg's eyes seemed fixated on Roxas. "Well, do you need anything? I'd be happy to..."

"I've already got everything, Greg, but thanks." I jumped the gun before he'd even finished.

"All right then. I guess I'll see you tonight at work then." Greg backed away from the door, running a hand over his zany hair.

"Sure thing Greg. See you then." I sent him a smile just as I closed the door.

The creaking of steps concluded that Greg was now leaving, but now I couldn't help but laugh when I heard Greg all but scream, "I knew it!"

* * *

Brooke's POV:

After Taj's arraignment was over with, I practically threw myself out of the doors like a freed bird. But it wasn't because I felt relieved that I was done with my arraignment; It was because I still had that guy on my mind and that look branded in my mind's eye.

"Brooke! What in the Hell has gotten into you?" Taj asked once we were on the street corner, thumbing for a ride.

"I saw him."

"Who? Who has got you turned into a skittish wreck?" Taj let out an aggravated growl.

"One of the guys from that night!" Now my skittish movements became erratic as anxiety settled in. "One of those damn guys in that group of twenty must've had an arraignment today too! When he left, he was eying Gil and Kylie in a way that I didn't like! And the look he gave to me before he left! I didn't like any of it!"

"Hey hey hey... Calm down, a'ight? Calm down. First of all, who's Gil?" Taj cupped my face, stroking my hair softly to simmer me down.

"Sara's new boyfriend." I was quick to reply, trying to chill out on my own now.

"A'ight... This guy from the fight... He gave Gil a look that you didn't like?" Taj tried to collect the fact again in a more organized fashion.

"Yes!" Frustration added onto my anxiety. "I'm afraid that asshole is gonna follow Gil back to Sara's place and do something to them. I need to get over there _now_." Retreating from Taj's body, I walked around in a small circle running my hand through my hair nervously. "I wouldn't be like this right now Taj if I didn't feel something was about to seriously go wrong! And Sara has got my baby in there with her!"

Taj mumbled a few words under his breath before searching around. The sound of a car could be heard down the road and Taj was quick to step out into the middle of the road. Even as the car came into view, Taj never budged, forcing the car to stop just before it was about to clip him at the knees. The lady beeped repeatedly while he ordered me to get into the car. I took the backseat while he took passenger.

"What the Hell are you doing?! Police!" The lady screamed out her window.

"Just shut up and drive us to a place lady. This is official unofficial business, and this is a Hell of a lot better than me commandeering your vehicle." Taj proclaimed through gritted teeth.

The tone Taj had used caused both the lady and my eyes alike to widen. There was a certain aspect about Taj's voice that I'd never heard before that I heard now that I found both frightening and exhilarating at the same time. It sure made the lady obey though!

Rambling off the address of Sara's apartment complex, the lady grew a lead foot and drove with no further questions.

**TBC...

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A/N: Did I leave you guys at a cliffhanger? Aww.. Muffin... Lol And that damn minion... And well... You know I had to throw Greg in. I mean, who doesn't love the Greg intrusions? C'mon, who?? That's right, NO ONE. (Chloe, if you defy me... Lol) Oh, **odeepblue**??? More action next chapter. And everyone? GSR next chapter, on the house...

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	25. BreakIns, Gashes, & Realizations

A/N: Okay, some fluff and a smidget of action (didn't want to go overboard with it), my fave combo. It's like dinner and a movie! It just fits! Love the reviews, guys, keep 'em comin! And also... HAPPY NEW YEAR! Belated, but hey, it's the thought that counts. Lol

Disclaimer: See past chapters. Pick a chapter, any chapter.

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Chapter 25: Break-Ins, Gashes, & Realizations

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Sara's POV:

There was, yet again, another knock at the door disturbing the residence. Rolling my eyes, I got up from the couch and made my way over to the door. Instead of being greeted with a familiar face however, I was greeted by a very unfamiliar face.

"Hello. May I help you?" I held a very defensive posture toward the man I faced now.

The man was silent for a moment, shifting his gaze from me to the inside of my house. I felt my pulse involuntarily increase, and all of my senses heightened. When the silence went on for too long, I backed up and tried to close the door as fast as I could. Regrettably, I wasn't quick enough to beat the man's leg that kicked the door open, banging against the wall it was attached to and barging in.

"Grissom!" I called out for Grissom while I tried my best to hold off the man from entering by shoving him back with my hands.

Shoving him only seemed to provoke him to raising his fist toward me. I blocked my face with one arm while I now tried to push this stranger by with my body, despite how much larger he was than me. But I was no longer needed as Grissom soon arrived and had the man pinned to the door by the collar of his shirt with his feet disconnected from the floor. I could sense the primal instinct to protect radiating off of him as he kept the stranger firmly pinned to the door while he struggled to get away.

But in just the blink of an eye, the silver object was withdrawn from the inside of the stranger's coat pocket. The sound of the blade retracting caused Grissom to look down just in time and jump back, barely getting touched on his left side by the tip of the razor sharp blade. That's the point where I rushed in, remaining circumspect of the blade's position and then subdued the man against the door just as Brass and my advanced self-defense classes taught me. The knife dropped to the ground, soundless because of the carpet, and while I had the man down on his knees with his hands behind his head, I kicked the knife further out of his reach and into the hall.

"Jim? I need you over at Sara's apartment to arrest an intruder. Don't ask questions, just get over here." Grissom's becalmed tone could've fooled anyone except for the semi-wild eyed gaze he was giving the perp.

Not being as barbaric as one could've been, I held the slightest bit of regard for him since his arm was in a splint and cast, but that still didn't help him much. When Grissom hung up with Brass and replaced his cellphone back in his pocket, he gently told me that he had this under control. I personally felt better when I left the perp in Grissom's hands, who forced him up to his feet to check him for any other weaponry. I saw that Grissom came up with nothing as I checked on the children back in my bedroom. In the far right corner of my room, I saw Alex standing guard in front of Kylie and Roxas; Kylie holding Roxas against her chest with her knees drawn up.

"Is everything a'ight now?" Alex questioned with the smallest of tremors in his voice.

"Yeah, everything is gonna be all right now." I nodded to emphasize my point, only slightly out of breath from the small struggle. "J-Just stay in here for now, okay?"

Alex simply assented with the unmistakable dip of his head, coaxing Kylie out of the corner and onto the bed where they all sat deathly still and silent. Meandering back into the living room where Grissom still had the perp against the wall, both of the stranger's hands pressed into the back of his neck, Grissom was inspecting the man's wallet that he'd found.

"You're from the court house." Grissom whispered to himself practically. "You followed me back."

"My hand to God, I will get your damn sister back for doing all of that to me and my crew!" These were the first words the guy had spoken, and I knew they were directed toward me. "I'm most likely doing time! Major time! And it's all her fault!"

"Hey! Shut up!" Brass's gruff voice sounded from out in the hallway.

Brass immediately took over the situation by handcuffing the intruder and shoving him in the direction of another cop that was accompanying him. As the other cop hauled the perp off, Brass stayed back to get into Grissom's face, forcing Brass to look up a tad bit for being slightly shorter than Grissom.

"You're lucky I was in the area. Next time, don't just give me a message like that and then hang up. Tryna give me a heart attack here?" Brass chided Grissom, though I knew there was at least some worry behind his admonishing tone. "An intruder could've meant anything! The least you could've said was that the intruder was already apprehended." Brass's lecture was cut short when he peered down and caught sight of something interesting. "Damn, he nicked you pretty well."

At that, I abruptly moved to get a better angle of what Brass had seen. And though I knew Grissom would be annoyed that we all were taking heed of his wounds, I felt the need to inspect what damage had been done. Unfortunately, most likely feeling exposed, Grissom covered the wound with his hand which was located on his stomach just above his right hip.

"It's fine. Just a cut." Grissom pushed it off to the side.

Already fed up with Grissom trying to put it out of sight and out of mind, I leaned in and pulled his hand away by his wrist. Brass had been right; The perp had nicked him pretty well with his knife. But Grissom was also right when he said that it was just a cut. A penetrating cut, nonetheless, but still just a cut that just needed to be washed and disinfected. And perhaps a new shirt was in order as well.

"I'll get him cleaned up Brass." I assured. "Thank you for arriving on short notice."

"Thank me? I was in the area going to a local diner and then I get that call." Brass backed off of Grissom, muddling through to put a semi-normal face back on now. "How couldn't I arrive on short notice?"

Smiling at his care for my safety, I dropped Grissom's wrist to envelope Brass in an embrace of appreciation. Parting our ways with promises to see each other later back at the lab for work, I led Grissom into my bathroom to clean him up a bit.

Shedding his shirt, Grissom tossed the shirt in a disheveled heap in the corner of the bathroom. Midst my searching for a soft washcloth in my closet, Grissom was washing off his smeared blood from his hands in the sink. When I'd finally produced a suitable candidate, I returned to Grissom to wet the washcloth under the warm water.

Amid my trance like method of cleaning the blood off and around the wound, I felt Grissom's stomach contract and relax from laughing. Well, I'd noticed the still present muscles that became even more noticeable when he laughed first, and then the fact that he was laughing second. What can I say? Female instinct.

"What's so funny?" I questioned, getting back up at eye level with him.

"Cleaning up a minor cut like this isn't a two person job, Sara." Blue eyes twinkled at me knowingly.

And despite all that had transgressed in just the past ten minutes, that peculiar look in his eyes had the power to make me smile notwithstanding the events. "You've caught me red-handed. I just love seeing you with your shirt off."

Narrowing his eyes at me impishly, the left side of Grissom's mouth pulled into one of his smiles, with holding a chuckle that flexed his stomach again. "There's something wrong with you, Miss Sidle. You like old men bodies."

"Ah, excuse me? I'll have you know, your body does _not_ count as an 'old man body'. When I can still see some muscle when you laugh in your abs, that is _not_ 'old man body'." I wasn't even sure who I was defending with the truth – him or me. "Now, when you start having more gut than muscle, then I'll taunt you about having an old man body and you can tease me back for still being in love with you."

Confirming that he was done bleeding and all of the blood had been washed off, while leaning against the sink counter, Grissom pulled me to him with his arms around my waist. I hadn't said Grissom had a nice body for anyone's reassurance, I quickly concluded with the solid fact of feeling his arms around my body securely. Of course, that wasn't to say that he had the perfect rock hard abs of professional body builders, but I wasn't complaining in any way. Resting my head against his bare chest, it was both comfortable and firm with healthy muscle.

_He's a comfortable pillow and strong at the same time._ My mind noted with mirth.

"Sounds fair to me." Grissom's chin now rested on top of my head.

I had both of my hands on either side of my head from where I had my head laying right above his heart. I closed my eyes as I listened to the rhythmic beat pounding inside his chest. Placing soft kisses over his heart, Grissom tilted my head up with his index finger under my chin lightly so that I was now eye locked with him. Attraction brought our lips closer and closer until they met halfway and melted together easily. Intensity built rapidly with time, and as reluctant as it was, I was the one that pulled back, but not pulling far as I could still feel Grissom's ragged breath on my face and lips.

"Not now..." I whispered, shivering slightly when Grissom's hand dropped from my chin to caressed a line up and down my bare arm from the tank top I wore. "Later. I promise."

"I'm keeping you to that, Sara Sidle." Grissom's husky tone raised goosebumps to my skin.

"I hope you do." Lowering my head, I withdrew from his warm embrace to get the hydrogen peroxide.

Dabbing the wound with cotton balls soaked in hydrogen peroxide, the region around the open cut foamed up as the hydrogen peroxide took its cleaning effects on the infected area. It was imaginable that it stung – either that or I was just a sissy when it came to applying it on my own cuts. Then again, I'd take this chemical composition over Scotty's brother's remedy and its chemical composition any day.

* * *

_Flashback_

"_Uncle Barry! Uncle Barry!" Brooke hollered as she pulled me out of the wreckage that had become of our two dirt bikes colliding into each other mid-air._

_A haze covered my mind and I briefly wondered why I couldn't walk on my right leg without a sharp pain breaking through my haze for what seemed like a second. Brooke had my arm wrapped around her neck as she hobbled off the worn down dirt bike path. Several yards away, Uncle Barry and Scotty sat around an extinguished fire pit, having a beer and conversing over light matters. Brooke's carrying voice caught their attention hastily, and now both men had detached themselves from their seats to aid Brooke in getting me to a chair._

_When Uncle Barry lifted Brooke into his arms to carry her, it was noted that I wasn't the only one with injuries._

_Still disoriented from the collision, I didn't particularly pick up what Uncle Barry and Scotty were bickering about. Brooke, sitting beside me on the picnic table appeared mortified of their words, and as Brooke pulled an injured forearm and leg close to her chest, I took in the gash in her injuries that ran the whole length of her ulna and tibia. The skin around the open regions were burnt at the most to the second degree._

_However, I got the message loud and clear when Uncle Barry cracked open a fresh beer from the cooler and poured half of it down my right leg. Haziness had dissipated into thin air and all I knew now was pain. Searing hot, unbearable pain from the alcohol reacting with the bacteria inside my gash the peg on my dirt bike had inflicted. Even Brooke, once the remainder of the beer was poured down her arm and left leg, had tears surfacing in her bi-colored eyes just as I did._

_I hadn't even realized that I'd been holding my breath to hold back the scream of pain, until I passed out from lack of oxygen to my brain._

_End of Flashback

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_

Smirking to myself, I began to realize how stupid I was for forgetting to breath. But the pain had been so unbearable! It made me oblivious to everything else beside the gash that was in my leg. Of course, that had given Uncle Barry the prime opportunity to stitch the gash up with a needle and thread. Such a crude method, and I whole-heartedly blamed Uncle Barry for proposing the idea to Brooke to self-stitch all wounds up with such ordinary house items. But, it did cut back the money for medical bills since that kind of accident occurred quite often in our household. Cuts and gashes, I mean. Not the dirt bikes.

"All better." I announced when I tossed the third used cotton ball into the trash can.

"Well, I applaud your efforts, Nurse Sidle." Grissom teased lightheartedly. "Would you happen to have any replacement shirts that would _fit_ me so that I don't have to go walking about the house bare chested?"

"I wouldn't mind..." I couldn't resist but to throw in the suggestive wink with that suggestive comment.

"But as you just said yourself, there are children in the next room." Grissom raised an eyebrow to me, crossing his arms across his naked chest.

"For your information, no, I don't believe I have any tops that'll fit you-" I had almost completed the word when something popped into my mind.

I still had one of Hank's old shirts in the far, _far_ reaches of my closet. At the time when I found it, I was still on my drunken rampage after Catherine had dropped me off from the bar to my house. Originally, I wanted to shred it, drench it in gasoline, and set it ablaze, but I had passed out long before I got to it. When I'd finally awoke, I simply tossed it into the far back of my closet since I had taken out the trash the previous day. Out of sight, out of mind.

"Do you want to revise that statement?" Grissom asked when I didn't speak up for several long seconds.

"Actually yes." I focused back on his face. "For the record, I _do_. Well, I'm not sure if it will _fit_ you, but it _is_ a man's shirt."

There was a brief flash of emotion behind his blue eyes that I recognized immediately, but the tone of his voice confirmed what he was feeling with its underlying tone of bitterness and hurt. "Let me guess... Did it once belong to a certain paramedic named Hank Peddigrew?"

I winced. "Yes, but unless you want to walk around bare chested, its the only thing I have for you."

I began to walk out of the bathroom before he could properly give me an answer. From the creaking of wood on the doorframe of the bathroom, I could visualize Grissom leaning out into the hallway with one of his arms by his side and one braced against the door as he called out to me. "It's not one of those muscle shirts, is it?"

Stopping in the threshold of my bedroom doorway, I turned back to Grissom only to reply. "Don't worry. It stretches."

I heard a groan as we both slipped into the respective rooms.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

I had ditched Taj so far behind as soon as our makeshift taxi driver pulled into the apartment complex that he had to pace himself at an all-out sprint to catch up to my run up the stairs. I dreaded this paranoid and anxious feeling that was building up in my chest. And it kept adding on with every step I mounted. So, by the time I reached the door I was looking for, I couldn't help but kick the door in.

Flushed, panting, sweating from the work out and fear of something happening to the kids or my sister, and yet, I couldn't help but fall on the floor in laughter. What had me so tickled? The sight of Sara and Gil freezing in the middle of the struggle to fit a white muscle shirt that, even to the untrained eye, just wouldn't fit on him. They couldn't even get Gil's large arms through the sleeves, much less the rest of his body. Based on the one time I met Greg Sanders, this muscle shirt looked like it would be a comfortable fit on him.

"Auntie Brooke!" From behind my frozen sister and her boyfriend, I heard Kylie and Alex exclaim.

Easily weaving between the two adults in the hallway, they made a mad dash for me. And from where I had at least been on my knees, I was now prone on my back from the kids tackling me. Shortly after Kylie and Alex, Roxas came hobbling out from behind Gil and Sara as well, adding onto the pile.

Then came the bombard of questions from the older of the group. Unfortunately for me, it was a large mess of words that I couldn't understand. In the doorway, I could see Taj leaning against it in the threshold, smirking widely down at the entanglement of people. And just barely through the mess I love to call my son's hair, I could see Gil peeling off the muscle shirt and Sara walking toward me.

_Sara's taste in men has **not** dulled._ I told myself. _For fifty, he's pretty up to code with his physical health. Sara, you lucky lil' girl, you..._

And just when I thought Sara was going to be coming to my rescue from the screaming and hording children, she branched off and went to embrace Taj instead, leaving me in a free-for-all with the three munchkins.

"What the Hell was with that entrance? Doesn't anybody knock anymore?" I heard Sara ask Taj with a laugh as they pulled away.

"Y'know Brooke. Gotta make her entrance grand, don't she?" Taj teased with me.

Kylie and Alex hung around my neck heavier than all of my necklaces put together as I tried to stand up, only holding onto Roxas who was holding onto me. A choking sound came out of my mouth as the two children slid behind me, practically putting me in a choke-hold.

_Practically? They **are**!_

Somehow, I maneuvered everyone around so that they were packed together three in a row on the ground and I had them all pinned there, hair piling in front of my face and tickling their's from how long it was. The bombard of questions suddenly stopped and was replaced with giggling from all three of them. I felt the push of their feet against my stomach, kicking me off from hovering over them playfully. Breaking into one of the first true smiles I felt I had in a while, I got to my feet just as Gil was joining our group.

Shaking Gil's hand just for the sake of not hugging him while he was half-naked, I asked the common questions like, "Hey, how ya doing?" in a slightly mumbled voice. That's when Sara switched over to me and left Gil and Taj to interact with one another. And from where I stood hugging Sara, I could see the interaction clearly.

I couldn't quite describe what was happening between the two men, but it was a slow process to get their hands to meet in a hand shake and Taj was casting his wary glance over Gil. On first shot, I rolled my eyes, thinking how protective he could be of Sara, but when Gil shot a stare similar to Taj's back at him, I stopped mid-eye roll. Now it wasn't so much a circumspect stare as it was an almost knowing stare. Blinking myself out of the stare I had as the guys both covered up their harmonized stares neatly, Sara and I pulled back at the same time.

"Grissom was telling me that he saw you at the courthouse on his way back from getting all the supplies." Sara said, making casual talk.

Realizing I was still partly panting and there was still perspiration on my forehead, I remembered why and how I had gotten that way now. Looking around the small apartment warily, even though I knew that Gil and Sara wouldn't be standing around as calmly as they are now if there was an intruder in the house, I had to reassure myself that it was just us. Natural habit. One of the only good habits I have.

That's when I noticed the small, yet noticeable cut on Gil's lower torso.

"He got here before I did." I abruptly stated. Stated, not asked. "What happened? Everyone's all right?"

It took a second for the meaning of my words to click in Sara's mind, but when it did, she gave me a just nod. Tossing a thumb back at Gil for indication, Sara began to speak. "If it wasn't for Grissom, I have no idea what would've happened." A pause ensued before she pulled me off to the side privately. "How did you know there was someone that broke in? Please don't tell me you knew who it was Brooke."

"Kinda, but not by the good association. It was one of the guys that I got arrested for assaulting." I said in the strained truth. I now found it difficult to talk about things like this with my sister since she was in law enforcement now. "He had his arraignment today too for something or other, and he walked out just as Gil and Kylie left. I got this look from him that just flipped me out! But, I couldn't do anything! I had my damn arraignment to go to, but as soon as Taj and me got out, we jetted over here with the help of..." I tried to explain the incident in a fashion that didn't make it sound as bad as it actual was. "forced civilian transportation."

"God Brooke..." Sara shifted in place, rolling deep chocolate eyes at me. "You can't keep out of trouble for one minute, can you? Don't tell me you hi-jacked someone's car!"

"Nah!" Holding my hands up as a peace sign, I backed away slightly. "We simply instructed a kind woman that it would be in her best interest if she drive us to where we needed to go." _Before she got seriously hurt..._

A skeptical look was thrown my way like a fire ball. I literally ducked in my flinch to avoid it.

"So, I see you guys were having your own dilemmas before I came barging in on you." Forcing the two of us to rejoin everyone else with my comment, I broke up our private meeting at the drop of a dime. "Did your shirt magically shrink in the wash?"

The white muscle shirt was still clenched in Gil's left hand. He chuckled in a low voice, tightening his stomach to show his abs off even more. I sent a telepathic pat on the back to Sara next to me.

"No. It's not even mine." A look was exchanged between Sara and Gil. "Apparently the recent owner of this shirt was smaller than I am."

"Or just liked the challenge of squeezing into it everyday." I piped up. "All just to show off what they really don't got."

I thought I had heard a scoff of laughter in agreement from Sara, but wasn't sure as she walked down the hall back to her bedroom. "Hang on! Maybe I have an oversized shirt that will actually fit you."

"I'll go help her." I insisted, having the children tail after me down the hall, leaving Taj and Gil alone.

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Taj's POV:

As soon as the girls and the kids were out of earshot, I turned back to the older man in front of me. I'd heard Sara call him Grissom and Brooke call him Gil. I chalked it up to it being some weird nickname from Sara to the guy, but Gil was his actual name. Didn't really matter. Not now anyways. Later? Oh, yeah. Definitely.

"A'ight, one simple question. Where you outside--" The guy cut me off mid-question with his hand raised.

"I was. And, I would appreciate it if you kept this to you and only you." It wasn't a pleading voice.

"Give me one good reason why I should? Who the Hell are you?" Now I wanted to know, and I was having difficulty keeping my voice down. "If you're into the same--" Again, he interrupted me.

"I'm sure you've seen your share of corrupt criminalists and cops in your time, but I am not among the pile, I assure you." And though I partially didn't want to believe him, the tone of voice he used prevented me. He sounded truthful, and frankly, I believed him.

The gears in my head were turning a little more slowly than normal, so by the time everything clicked in my head, it was too late. The girls and kids had arrived back now, and my prying time was over with. I had to admit. This guy was smooth. You wouldn't suspect him at all. I guess that was what made him perfect for the job.

Sara passed off the large T-shirt that appeared to be a tent on her, but perfect for this Gil guy. As he slipped it over his head and poked his arms through the sleeves, Sara leaned up – putting her hands against his chest for support – and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek just when she thought everyone was turned away. Just briefly, I caught sight of Gil's ears turning a bright pinkish color, and I couldn't help but shake my head.

_He's more than okay in my book..._ I figured, catching sight of Sara's giant and gapped-tooth beautiful smile. _Doing what he's doing and making one of my best friends happy. You're a pretty okay guy, Boss Man._

**TBC...

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A/N2: Yeah, in the flashback, that was a personal experience of mine, and I was in Sara's shoes. I had forgotten to breath. XD... Except in the particular accident I was remembering, my uncle hadn't used beer for once... Ooooh no. He had used Vodka. (We didn't have hydrogen peroxide or rubbing alcohol, and my family didn't care either way. Lol) So, I hope everyone understands what I mean with that last line by Taj. If not, well... Hmm... PM me and I'll give ya a lil' hint. If you understand it, haha! Bet you didn't see that one coming! Told you everything would tie in together... And no, I'm not making Grissom anything he isn't. On the contrary, by the end of this story, I'm hoping to explain his most important role. Also, I feel like I'm obligated to go back on a somewhat humor track again... We'll see next chapter. And how's that for your GSR? Huh? Rate me! Lol, c'mon! I dare ya!

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	26. Better Days

A/N: Due to a somewhat "flame" on another story of mine, I'm back with an update faster than I was planning! (And why? Just because I love pissing people off! Hah haa!) Well, starts off light but goes back downhill to some seriousness again at the end. Thanks for all the support from my readers; I love y'all!

Disclaimer: See previous chapters...

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Chapter 26: Better Days

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Brooke's POV:

"One large tossed salad, with _three_ tomatoes and _two _slices of cucumber..." The fake smile I had on my face annoyed me even more than the unreasonably picky woman on the other side of the counter, and my strained voice didn't hide any of it. "I hope you enjoy your meal, and please... _Do_ choke on the bone fragments."

To my complete luck and relief, nearly three months passed by without incident after Sara's small break in. It was fine by my standards. I had spent a good portion of my life on my toes constantly, watching my back – along with other peoples' backs – every step of the way. I never thought it'd feel quite as nice to simply sit back and relax. But as relaxation wore off and the urge to get back to my job of kicking ass and taking names down was calling my name more often than Roxas did. Then again, anything was better than standing behind the counter of an amateur fast food restaurant.

"Here's your hamburger sir." Handing a rather greasy brown paper bag over to the rather "big built" customer, I faked politeness once more. "Oh, and... If you come back, you're a moron."

Sara and Gil were more than gracious to allow myself to take a residence up in Sara's apartment while Sara "offered" to go live with Gil. Free reign of everything, and what was better was that I finally had the kids out of the hood. It saddened me that Jen wasn't exactly enjoying it with us, but I knew she'd be happy knowing her kids were fully safe now. After all, she was safe herself, steadily inside a support group and a rehab of types for abused women. I took the kids to visit her regularly because I knew that they were the only things that would keep her sane at this point in her life.

My life was finally looking on the up and up. I had a pretty steady living, my best friend and sister in my life again who was appearing happier and happier every day she spent with Gil, there had been no problems with that Lady Heather, and I was readily allowing myself to let Taj back into my life fully again. The loss of BJ crippled everyone that knew him personally, but Sara had been right. After the investigation of his death was finished and the guys that killed him had been caught, for once, I was happy just to let them go to jail. It was two less people off of D.I.Z's team, and I knew that we had people from our side inside prison that would handle with the two scumbags accordingly.

"I promise ma'am... The chewy bits aren't harmful." I assured the young, loud, and obnoxious woman standing in front of me complaining about something in her salad.

Yes, all was well... Except for this job they made me take up as part of my sentence.

The woman stalked off and out the door just as the two Godsents entered. I was about to greet Gil and Sara when yet another complaining customer approached me, slamming the cheeseburger on the counter in his rage. I recoiled at the smell he was giving off; BO and a nasty cologne or deodorant that did nothing for him.

"I bit into this and there was a _bone_ inside it!" With every word he spoke, a smell worse than the dead rose out of his mouth and all but burnt everything in my nose. "I believe I might have chipped a tooth and I have a date later on tonight!"

"Sir, from where I stand and what I can smell, I think a chipped tooth will be the least of your worries while you're out on that date with your sister or mother tonight." I began, taking another step away from the offending smell. "Second, not my problem. And third of all, please, step back at least twenty yards before I pass out. You make the bathrooms smell like lavender."

An appalled look crossed his face as he stood back with one hand on his hip and leaned across the counter with the other hand. "Don't you speak to me in that manner! I wanna talk to your manager! I demand courtesy and respect as a lawyer."

_Lawyers... Figures._ I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah go and talk to my manager. He'll understand after you get within a twenty mile radius of him." Refusing to breath as I backed away a little further, the smell of the man literally bringing tears to my eyes. "Or as a matter of fact, just sent him a letter and lick the envelope. Then he'll _really_ understand." Indicating the exit with my finger, I made my last attempt to get him to leave so I could at least breath again. "Now go on with yourself and do yourself a favor by getting yourself a flea bath or just a bath in general. I'm sure whatever backwater island cousin or long lost sister you're taking out for a date tonight will appreciate breathing fresh air instead of having to wear a gas mask, okay?"

Just like the woman before him, he stormed out but Gil and Sara seemed to bounce at least a couple feet away from him before approaching me. Gil was laughing along with Sara as Gil inspected the now squashed cheeseburger that had become a pancake the moment the man slammed it against the counter. Gil's face retorted in disgust, not that I could blame him. Not even McDonald's was as bad as this joint.

"Now Brooke, you're never going to get any worthwhile tips if you keep treating your customers like that." Sara taunted and teased me lightheartedly.

"Hey, you try playing Mary Poppins on ecstasy for the people who walk in here." I countered, throwing down my commercial hat on the torn up tile floor beneath me. "But damn are you two a bright spot for my eyes. If you guys weren't together, I'd kiss ya. But I'll leave Sara to that job."

Closing up the bag after his inspection, Gil turned back to me and then quickly turned his attention and sights on my sister, smiling at her with that gleam in his eye that told me he was the catch of her life. Just below the counter, I could barely see their hands joined together with entwined fingers. It warmed my heart and made me wish Taj was here.

"I would think that was for the best Brooke." After another minute of being eye locked with Sara, he turned back to me. "How much longer do you have to work in this dump?"

"At least for another twenty hours." I heaved an exasperated sigh, thoroughly hating the number.

"Three more days if you're working eight hour shifts." Sara shrugged, remained optimistic. "Not that bad."

"Yeah, your visits help me get through the day." I smiled. "So, what have I got to thank for your visit today?"

"Nothing." Gil said simply. "Sara just wanted to drop in to say 'hello'."

"And I suppose it was absolute horror and pain mixed with suffering to get you in here too, huh?" I teased, setting myself to washing off the counter with the rag attached to my belt.

Over the time I had gotten to know Gil, I found that him and I actually had a lot in common and we made great friends, when he wasn't serious or hard at work on a case. I even found it hard to believe how easily we connected, but I didn't question it. I was just glad that I'd finally found someone that Sara was infatuated with that I got along with. Our family ran like an Italian family; You always had to get consent from your family to do practically anything. And there had been a silent agreement between Jay and me that Gil Grissom was one of the best people out there for Sara.

"Maybe just a little suffering when that man walked passed us, but that was about it." I cringed and gagged at the remembrance of that ungodly odor.

"I couldn't agree more." Running my hand over my pulled back in a ponytail hair, I reveled in the sweet smell of fresh air. "But hey, Sara?"

Sara responded with a tentative, "Hmm?", raising an eyebrow at me.

"You, me, tonight. We need to go chill at the club for just a girl's night for a change. I got something I need to talk to you about."

Gil instantly became tensed and slowly backed off, not fully knowing where he should be at the moment. Nervousness brought him to subconsciously tug at his earlobe with his free hand as he took baby steps backwards. Sara turned slightly to him and tugged him back to her side in a gesture before turning back to me.

"No worries, dear Gilbert," I laughed at the daggers he sent my way. "It's not for a guy searching night. I just want a night with my sister since you seem to hog her all the time."

"I'll go with you..." Sara began but stopped as she looked over at her beloved boyfriend with questioning brown eyes. "If that's all right with you and if you didn't have anything planned for tonight."

"It won't even be for a full hour." I chimed in before he could even answer. "I'll have her back by 10:00 on the dot so you guys can do go have your fun."

_I have a pretty vague idea of what fun is for them when they both have a night off, though._ I smirked with a smugness. _Oh damn. Mental image!_

"I have no problem with it." Gil smile lightly. "Just take care of her."

"Hey, I had the job of protecting Sara's ass _long_ before you stepped into take my place, buddy." I defended, pointing my finger evenly at the older man. "You are still under my watch for that position."

"Break it up you two." Sara laughed, beginning to walk out of the pit of Hell I worked in. "So, I'll see you tonight Brooke."

"Tonight!" I echoed as Gil followed her out, reclaiming her hand just as they went over the threshold.

The rest of the shift flew by and soon I was back in Sara's apartment. Smelling of grease from the fries and burgers I worked around for eight straight hours, I jumped straight in the shower while the kids were occupied with TV with Taj supervising them. I was almost sure that a pile of grease slipped off me in the shower because I felt three pounds lighter when I was finished. Dressing in dark blue cargo pants, a white T-shirt, and Taj's dark blue hoodie with my good boots, I went out to properly greet everyone.

"Hey there." I leaned in to kiss Taj after approaching the chair he sat in from behind, but he was the one that deepened it. Pulling back rather breathlessly, I smiled as I gently tapped him on the cheek, causing him to smile as well. "None of that yet, mister. You know the deal."

Purposely trailing my fingertips down his bare arm, I moved over to the kids on the couch, taking each one into a hug and kiss the the top of their foreheads. Only Roxas seemed to become thoroughly enticed with me instead of the show on TV as Alex and Kylie continued to stare at the screen with interest.

"I just changed him." Taj announced, getting up from the chair. "And he seems to be getting over that cold of his too."

Roxas cuddled deep into my chest comfortably as his arms wrapped around my neck. "I figured. He didn't have much of a runny nose this morning before I left for work. No kid of mine will have a cold for long."

Reaching into the fridge, Taj retrieved a pre-made bottle and warmed it in the microwave for about thirty seconds. "How was work today? Any threats? Any pervs you want me to take care of?"

"None today, babe." Tussling Roxas's soft hair and planting feather light kisses on top, I met Taj at the microwave as the timer went off. "Just a guy that reminded me of the homeless guy that used to sleep on the basketball courts back home when we were kids."

"Crazy Tommy?" Taj chuckled, shaking the bottle well and testing it against his wrist. "Bad BO, cocky attitude, a face even a mother couldn't love?"

"Yeah, might as well been Crazy Tommy with slightly better clothes and speech." I continued to play with Roxas's hair while Taj heated the bottle up for fifteen more seconds. "Sara and me are going to the club tonight around nine."

"Oh? And why wasn't I told of this?" A raised eyebrow was sent my way.

"Because it's a girl's only thing." I shot back.

"A'ight, a'ight." Testing the bottle against his wrist once more, he nodded to himself in agreement with the temperature.

"Give it up, I'll go put Roxas to sleep now." I said, switching all of Roxas's weight to my right side so my left hand could take the bottle.

Roxas's head shot up from my chest, bloodshot blue eyes looking wide at me pleadingly. "No sleep! No bed!"

"Yes sleep! Yes bed!" I countered.

"Let me put him to sleep, Brooke." Taj insisted, reaching out and taking the surely overtired toddler from my arms.

"You always want to put him to sleep." I stated, easily passing my baby over to Taj. "If you're not careful, I may lose all my motherly instincts here."

"Nah..." Taj shook his head. "I'm just tryna make life easier for you."

Leaning over Roxas, my lips met with Taj's in a thankful and chaste kiss which I quickly let morph into a gentle make-out session in the middle of the kitchen. This time I couldn't pull away quite as easily, but I still managed, knowing I had to dry my hair before going to pick Sara up in an hour since it was already 8:00.

"Soon?" Taj's pleading eyes begged for an answer.

"Very soon if you keep up this act."

"It's not an act."

"Then it'll be sooner than you think." I winked, moving to the bathroom as Taj walked into the bedroom to put Roxas to sleep.

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Sara's POV:

"You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. At long last love as arrived, and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true, I can't take my eyes off of you..." Singing quietly in the vanity mirror, I brushed my hair out one last time before Brooke was bound to pick me up.

"Frankie Vallie? I didn't know you liked the oldies, Sara." Grissom commented as he walked into the room.

"Well, not those oldies..." I smiled into the mirror at his reflection. "I know that song from Lauryn Hill."

A throaty chuckle emitted from the man behind me as he drew closer, shaking his head in what had to be disbelief. "Doesn't it worry you that we think of two completely different singers from two different eras when that song plays?" His lips mumbled into my neck as he embraced me from behind.

"Not in the slightest." I replied, reveling in the feel of his lips caressing my neck teasingly.

"I love it when you sing." Grissom remarked, lifting his head up to rest his chin on my shoulder.

"I guess that's how you tolerate my music genre, huh?" I grinned, turning my head so I could look at him directly.

"It's the only way I can tolerate it. It usually gives me a headache, yours and Greg's metal alike." Jumping back, he narrowly avoided my slap to his arm, making his lips break out in a severe case of "the grins".

"Watch it Mr. Grissom. You don't see me complaining about your Beethoven or Mozart, do you?" I retorted with mirth, commencing with my brushing and last minute touch-ups.

"You couldn't without being hypocritical because you've grown to appreciate their music as well." Grissom stated with a smugness in his deep voice that thrilled me and amused me at the same time.

Pivoting abruptly, I shoved a forefinger into his stiff chest in good nature, drawing my face dangerously close to his silently challenging him to make the next move or say the next word. "Note the word 'grown' in that sentence, babe."

Blue eyes scrunched up mockingly in deep scrutiny with a smile daringly tugging at his lips, ruining what he thought was a serious expression. "That sister of yours is going to arrive any minute..." He gave up his serious facade at the beginning of his sentence. "You know how she doesn't enjoy being kept waiting."

"You mean, you know how I know that _you_ don't like the blasting music she has in her car while waiting for me?" I shot back as he retreated out of the room.

With a quick and suave wink, leaning against the doorframe, Grissom replied, "_Exactly._"

Playfully rolling my eyes, I continued my final touches.

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Brooke's POV:

Halting my hand just an inch away from the horn, I dropped my arm to my lap and turned off the engine to my ever faithful Shorty, the Nissan Skyline. Shaking my head, I blocked and unblocked my ears until I had some type of hearing left from my music, and heaved myself up and out of the car. I hoped dear old Gil realized I was doing him a favor by going up instead of just sitting there with my music blasting while I waited like I usually did.

Running up the steps to the quaint little townhome that belonged to the loving couple, my knuckled didn't even meet wood when Gil flung the door open and greeted me before shaking his head in the direction of the hallway leading to the bedroom. Nodding in understanding, I continued down the hall, only hearing the growing sounds of Sara's singing voice filling the air.

"Oh pretty baby... Don't let me down, I pray. Oh pretty baby, now that I found you, stay, and let me love you..." An ear-to-ear smile crawled onto my lips as I slipped discreetly into the room, watching Sara repeatedly comb her hair while singing. "Oh you're just too good to be true..."

"I can't take my eyes off of you..." I joined in, startling her and causing her whole body to jump. "Jumpy?"

"You know, it's not nice to sneak up on people like that... I could've thrown my brush at you and impaled you with it." Sara mock chided, turning in her seat and placing the brush down on the vanity table she leaned on.

Waving it off, I let out a lasting, "Pfft" sound. "As if it'd even touch me with _my_ reflexes... Man, you almost ready? If you brush your hair anymore, you'll go bald." I threatened. "And since you're not a guy and you don't have chemotherapy for leukemia, let's try to avoid that one."

Chocolate eyes rolled at me with a breath of air leaving her lips in a sigh. "Well, thank you Captain Candid. I'm ready."

Putting on a triumphant smile, I snatched her up by her wrist and lead her down the hallway out of the townhome, allowing her five minute to grab her coat and say goodbye to Gil. Then it was out into the brisk and cold air of Las Vegas nighttime, and off to the bars on the Strip for an hour of Sister's Night Out.

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Sara's POV:

"Okay, now where are you dragging me off to again?" I turned to the happily anxious Brooke in the driver's seat with a smirk playing on my lips.

"Don't even play like that! We're going to the first bar or club for drinks and I need to talk one-on-one with you." Whatever it was that she needed to talk about obviously had her on Cloud Nine.

_Ten bucks and a signed contract saying I'll become an omnivore again says it's about Taj._ I told myself with a light eye roll as I relaxed into the leather cushions. _I'd give anything for those two to just get themselves together and get together. I guess I can relate to how Catherine, Nick, and Warrick felt about Grissom and me. Maybe not Greg..._ I covered up a laugh beneath the bass of Brooke's music. _I think he was still rooting for a chance with me, that poor guy._

It wasn't considerably long until we landed in a club where drunks weren't getting thrown out by bouncers or a bar brawl wasn't breaking out. I found it expected and typical that Brooke wanted to stop there and play the role of a "good Samaritan", but with one swift threat to confiscate her car, she quickly kept driving.

There might as well have been _no_ lights on in the club given how dark it was. But despite not being able to see it, I could feel the multiple pairs of eyes following Brooke's and mine trek over to the bar. I shrugged off the feeling of being watched even as I sat down at the bar with Brooke who ordered two glasses of water right off the bat.

"What? No Hennessey tonight, Brooke?" I teased as the barkeep shortly returned. "Don't tell me you called me out tonight to tell me your pregnant."

"Oh Hell no!" Brooke's chuckle gave me some reassurances. "After Roxas, I don't think I'm having anymore kids. They're serious when they say it's hard work pushing kids out. I ain't the Baby Express here..."

A cold and sneaky air brushed pass the right side of my face, traveling and toying with my hair. Turning about in my stool, I found it even more disturbing to find that no one was behind me that was close enough to walk by and pass a breeze at the same time. I remained spun about for a minute more before inwardly shaking myself, claiming that I was paranoid.

_Pull yourself together._

"So what _is_ this all about, Brooke?" I asked to my inquiring eyed sister beside me. "I know you too well... You've got Taj on the brain, don't you?"

"Damn you, Sara Sidle..." Brooke managed a smile as she downed her cup and slammed it down on the counter. "Damn you."

Not much was said after that about the man in question. Just those six words out of Brooke's mouth, and that leaden weight on her chest was lifted. The thing I loved the most about our wonderfully confusing relationship? We didn't have to say anything about our problems for them to be resolved.

After a half an hour, the strobe lights and smoke was getting to my head causing me to make up a quick lie to catch some air. I didn't need Brooke thinking something was wrong with me, so the simple white lie about needing to use the bathroom floated past my lips not a second after I removed myself from my seat, heading instead for the back exit.

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Brooke's POV:

"Going to the bathroom my ass, Sara Sidle." I grunted a laugh as I turned back to the bar. "You're going to the bathroom and I'm running for president..." _Hm... Maybe that's not such a bad idea..._

Shrugging, I ordered yet another water. _Only three more ounces to go, and I'll have the nine ounces of water a day that my doctor wants me to get._ Smirking, I slowed my water intake for the next five minutes.

There had been six more cups of water after that one and I was beginning to worry when Sara hadn't returned. I hadn't caught where she'd _actually_ gone, but it was to none of my surprise that the bathroom was empty, save for a few girls doing up there make-up.

_Maybe she went outside for some fresh air..._ My mind offered as I made my way through the thick crowd back toward the entrance.

My force with the door had, consequently, caused the person on the other side of it to be sent back a few feet square on their ass. And I most likely wouldn't have stopped in my search for my MIA sister if I hadn't seen that baby face of Taj's attached to the person I'd just pummeled over.

"Taj?" There was a soprano quality to my voice as I helped him off the pavement. "What the Hell are you doing here?"

"Just out getting some air." It was a quick white lie that earned him a well-deserved eye roll.

"You suck at lying, Teague Allah James." I scolded him with the pointing finger one top of my words like I would Roxas. "I hope you didn't just ditch the kids."

"Nope. C'mon, Brooke, you know me better than that. The elderly woman next door insisted that I get out and that she'd watch the kids." Taj kept up side-by-side with me as I took off to the right of the sidewalk, still in search of my sister. "What's got you so panicky?"

"Sara... She said she had to go to the bathroom like... fifteen or twenty minutes ago and hasn't returned." I informed. "I checked the bathroom but she wasn't there." On that last note, I dug in the hoodie's pocket pouch for my cellphone.

"_We've got a very important message from our boss, Miss **Sara Sidle**. And she's been waiting to give it to you for a **very** long time."_

Stopping on the drop of a dime, I turned to the right to peer down the narrow alleyway that ran on the side of the club through a wire fence gate, nearly crushing my cellphone with my fist. Even in the dark, I could make out Sara's wary and defensive face amongst a crowd of dark clothed men all cracking knuckles and backing her, or at least attempting to, into a wall.

Slamming the cellphone into Taj's chest, I growled, "Start video taping. If I'm going to jail for first degree murder, I want proof that this was provoked and under my good Samaritan rights."

Effortlessly floating up and over and landing hard on my feet, I vaulted the wire fence and made a charge for the mob that looked like they were drawing closer and closer to an attack. In next to no time at all, my boot was raised in the air and crashing down on the lower back of the closest one facing me.

The sound of fists hitting faces was heard directly in front of me, but to my relief, when I looked up all I saw was Sara shaking the pain out of her fists as she threw her elbow into the guy next to her.

"Get off my sister!" I grunted out as I stepped on and over the man beneath me and took a hold of the two men that already had Sara by the collar, throwing them behind me like rag dolls.

A large hand clasped around my neck from behind, first around the front of my throat and then behind my neck, and pluck me straight from the ground like a flower from a field. I watched in horror, not that black spots were beginning to appear before my eyes, but that a punch had managed to be landed to Sara's face, despite her efforts to block it. The power of the hit was enough to have her stumble to the side and hit the other side of her face against the brick wall. Strangled cries emitted from my throat as I writhed around with all my might, kicking backwards at my attacker as hard as I could, as I was forced to watch more guys pick the slightly dazed Sara Sidle up off the gravel and hold her up while another took a solid swing at her stomach.

One moment I was suspended in the air, the next I was crashing to the ground, and it was all because of a certain enraged Teague Allah James that came darting down the alleyway to tackle my sturdy assailant to the ground. Wheezing to regain oxygen, I hardly waited for the black spots to clear up before I took a drunken haymaker swing at the man that had sucker punched Sara in the stomach. I felt my hand make contact with his skull, even if I couldn't see it.

"C'mon! Fight fair, assholes! Come and get me!" I heard Taj yell from somewhere off behind me.

As my vision started to clear, I saw that the remaining portion of the mob that was still standing had abandoned their original assault on Sara in pursuit of another one on Taj. Just as one of the more puny ones went running off, I shoved out an obtrusive foot out in the middle of his path to trip him before quickly jabbing my other knee up into his falling face, making him fall backwards. Unfortunately for him, my expecting hand was waiting there for a grip on the back of his neck just so I could throw him forward again at a much faster velocity into the ground – face first.

Though his arms had blocked his face from splattering his brain matter all over the ground, it indirectly caused him to shatter both of his forearms. Squatting down beside him, I lifted him up as high as I could by his hair, making his tear filled eyes stare at me face to face. He barely looked a day over nineteen, but then again, it was a cold, cruel world out here, and I supposed he had to learn the hard way that you don't mess with something you know you wouldn't be able to handle on your own.

"Who's your boss?"

"I-I-I I DON'T KNOW!" The kid blubbered tearfully.

Raising my boot off the ground, even while squatting, I stomped on his broken right forearm, earning me an earful of sobs and strained cries. "WHO IS YOUR BOSS?!"

"D.I.S.!" The boy screamed even louder. "D.I.S.!"

"WHY DOES HE WANT A HIT ON MY SISTER?!"

"It's a she, and all she said was that this chick named Sara Sidle stole her boyfriend!" The growing rivulets poured down his face as he continued. "She said that we could find her here tonight and that she wanted her taken care of! I was just following orders!"

"Yeah, well, next time kid, know who your screwing with before you go on a mission." I dropped his face carelessly to the floor before standing up. "Others won't be as merciful as me."

I left the boy to gather himself up and go running off down the alley, tripping over nothing and probably not heading anywhere in particular besides away from me. Kneeling down beside Sara on the ground, placing my hand over her two hands gripped on top of her stomach. A vice grip tore away at my stomach.

"Hey, c'mon... You okay?" Nothing could divert my attention at this point. "C'mon Sara, just say you're all right."

"My whole face feels like a balloon..." Her voice was weaker, but not to the point that it raised alarm in me.

Choking out a laugh, I grabbed either side of her head and rested my forehead up against hers as I hugged her. "You're one tough bitch, Sara Sidle."

"Where's Taj?"

"He's off dealing with those guys now. Don't worry about him." I soothed her as I gently helped her up to her feet. "All we gotta care about right now is getting you back home and taken care of. Damn, Gil's gonna rip me a new one."

"I can't believe I couldn't stop them from hitting me." Sara groaned as I guided her down the alleyway.

"Don't worry about it, Sar... Taj and I are gonna take care of those punks." I subconsciously gripped Sara's arm tighter. "We're gonna make them pay, cause no one hurts my sister and gets away with it alive."

"Brooke..." Sara's limpid hand landed up on my shoulder. "Who is this... 'D.I.S.'?"

**TBC...

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**

A/N2: I hope y'all understand what's go on.. For those of y'all that didn't pick it up on the last chapter, Grissom is Brooke and Taj's "employer". (Am I making him crooked? NO!) You'll have the whole backstory by the end of this story though. Promise. Now, does anyone have any idea who D.I.S. is? (Nothing from you Chloe! You already know!) Lol

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


	27. I Need You

A/N: Woohoo! Go me for getting another chapter of this up this fast! This chapter is kinda running and gunning it (hahaha, you'll find that ironic after you read this chapter) during classes when I _should've_ been taking notes for my tests. Oh well. Nothing to learn in those classes anymore. So, here you go!

Disclaimer: Hehehehe, if you think I own CSI, I think you were drinking too much Guinness on St. Patrick's Day.

* * *

Chapter 27: I Need You

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Grissom's POV:

There was a certain dull quality to the house whenever Sara wasn't around, and while a year ago, I might've appreciated the deflated and calm atmosphere, I could barely stand it now. I longed for that life that Sara brought to it whenever she was around.

_Stop it, Gil... You're just a step above pathetic, at best._ My old conscience scorned me.

Setting the forensic magazine down before me on the coffee table, I peered up at the clock. It was nearly ten forty-five now. _Where are those two?_

It seemed to be staged perfectly on cue that the thuds and mumbles resonated up the stairs and through the door. I was only steps away from opening the door when the pleading voice of Brooke's beckoned me to let her in. But I was nowhere near prepared for the sight I received when I responded.

"What the Hell happened?" I questioned as I took the slack Sara Sidle who was being carried on the back of her foster sister.

Brooke followed me as I carried Sara down the hall to our bedroom, a heavy staccato element in her voice that couldn't get several words stringed together to make an coherent sentence. Even subconsciously, Sara had her arms wrapped around her mid-section for a sense of security and she buried her delicate face now marred with bruises and scratches into my chest.

Sliding in sideways into the bedroom, I placed Sara down on the bed before laying a blanket on top of her. Whirling in a storm of fury back towards Brooke, I was nose-to-nose with the woman as I spoke.

"What happened to Sara?" The strictness of my voice left me even speechless.

"I don't know! All I know was that she'd left to go to the bathroom, ended out in the alleyway behind the club and when I was walking past looking for her, she was getting cornered by a gang of punks!" Running her nimble fingers through her hair, Brooke moved back and began to lightly pace the room. "I tried to get to her as fast as I could but then they turned on me and one had me in the air by my neck while someone took a swing at Sara and hit her!" Knuckles white and with her cheeks flushed red, even through her already dark complexion, I saw the hysteria gradually transform into full fledged anger. Just like I knew the woman possessed. "They got her in the stomach too... And then Taj got them all off our backs and I got her home as soon as I could, but she passed out in the car."

"Why didn't you take her to the hospital?" I continued to chide, keeping in mind the areas that Brooke mentioned took the beating. "She could have a concussion!"

"You think I don't know that?!" Now it was time for Brooke to turn on me as she stepped up to my face and took me by the collar. "You think I don't know what the possibilities of her injuries are?! News flash, both her _and_ I have sustained more injuries in our lifetimes to know what the _Hell_ they are!"

Taking a hold of her wrists, I slowly pried them from my shirt and lowered them to her side. I could still feel my blood pressure rising as I turned back to look at Sara.

_Now isn't the time to lose control, Gil._ My mind coached as I turned back to the pacing Brooke Waters. As soon as I was about to offer some words to either apologize for snapping or words of comfort, they weren't heard as Brooke set off again.

"I swear to God on our sister's grave that I'm gonna find whoever did this and I'm gonna kill them. You might as well arrest me now, Gil, because when I figure..." Her words slowed down with every word as I could practically see the wheels in her mind turning. Suddenly, and with a new sense of realization, she cursed loud enough to rouse Sara from her sleep.

With Brooke biting her knuckle, she retreated from the room, giving the doorframe a solid punch as she carried herself down the hall to the living room. Crouching by the bed and by Sara's side, I waited for her eyes to fully open. Brown irises and black pupils took a moment to focus on me, but a faint smile rose to her lips when she caught sight of me. Mumbling a greeting, I pushed past a greeting of my own in reply.

"Griss... I'm sorry. I tried to get them all away from me, but there were too many of them..." She claimed as she reached for my hand.

Taking hers, I rubbed soft circles into the back of her hand and across the knuckles that were slightly puffed up. "But you fought back and you're alive... That's all that matters." I smiled. "Hold on, I'll go get you a wet wash-cloth and some ice. Just rest here."

Holding onto her hand for as long as I could, I left for the kitchen and bathroom. Exiting the hallway, I found Brooke was once again attached to my collar.

"Where does that bitch live?" There was a somewhat determined and fully outraged look within her bi-colored eyes.

"Who?" I questioned as I shook her off again.

"That bitch of an ex-girlfriend of yours! Lady Heather!" Brooke seethed as she slammed her fists down on the counter of the breakfast island. "Where does she live and what's her phone number?"

Stopping as I reached for the freezer's door handle, I swiveled back to Brooke with inquiring eyes. "Why?"

"Because I wanna have damn milk and cookies with the broad, WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK?!" Brooke shot out sarcastically. "That broad made a hit on Sara! C'mon now, I know you're not stupid!"

"What leads you to suspect her besides the facts that she doesn't like Sara?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Brooke mocked actual consideration to thought as she grabbed her chin. "Maybe the fact that I got the chance to 'interview' one of the people that was in the gang... He told me that they were ordered to smack Sara around because she had stolen the person's boyfriend."

Leaning up against the refrigerator now, I could barely contain the information. Lady Heather? Ordering a hired hit? After that night of stopping her from committing murder, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that Heather wouldn't mind doing things herself if it were that personal. And this, indeed, was personal to Heather. The feeling settled within me that there was much more too it than Brooke was letting on. Something huge. Something that exceeded this situation.

But with her "Boss's" identity unknown to her, I would possibly never know if this hunch of mine was fact or fiction.

_Is now an appropriate time to tell her?_ My mind asked itself. _She's practically your left and right hand in that case, yet she doesn't so much as have a single clue that standing before her is the so-called "Mastermind" to her "assignment"._

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I turned around to rummage through the freezer. Moving on from the kitchen, Brooke's eyes and body followed me with pure confusion. "What? All of a sudden it doesn't matter? It doesn't matter that I may know who ordered people to beat up Sara?"

Stopping halfway down the hall, I turned abruptly back to her. "Don't tell me it doesn't matter Brooke. You've provided the information and the evidence, now I must figure a way to handle this."

"I'll give you a way to handle 'this'. Let me go and knock the broad upside the head, that's how!" Brooke growled as she kept in tow with me as I entered the bathroom to retrieve a wet wash-cloth and a dry one to wrap the icepack in.

Just as quickly exiting the bathroom as I had entered it, I returned to the bedroom as I ignored Brooke statement. Setting both the wash cloth and icepack on the bedside table, I went to the closet to retrieve my field kit. Regardless of the fact that she was fine and not at the hospital, there was still a chance that I could find one or all of the people that attacked her. Taking swabs of both her inflamed knuckle and both sides of her cheeks all the while receiving eye rolls from the "victim", I replaced all three swabs back into my kit, making a quick mental note to drop those off to Mia tomorrow when I arrived at work.

Replacing the swabs with the wash-cloth, I dabbed the wash-cloth across Sara's face, cleaning up the small traces of blood that was left and I also paid attention to the hand she'd obviously hit with. Placing the wrapped up icepack over her swelling cheek, I held it there as her own hand raised up and covered mine.

"Please don't tell me you're going to waste Mia's time with those swabs." Sara pleaded with me.

"Fine, then I'll get Greg to do it before shift. He should still have the DNA lab tech still somewhere inside him, no matter how much he denies it." I bantered softly which thankfully heard me an equally soft chuckle. "And besides, it's not a waste if we find the guys that did this."

"Yeah and in the meantime, I'm gonna just quietly find that skank Heather and beat her to a pulp, okay with you two?" Brooke interrupted, unkindly reminding me that it was not just Sara and myself in the room.

Standing now, I turned to face the hot-headed and hot-blooded counterpart of Sara's younger days. "Brooke, just think of what you just said and the consequences that could come with it."

"I'm seeing nothing but good." Brooke replied after a moment.

"You're not going anywhere..." Sighing out of exasperation, I kept tabs of how far away Brooke was from the door and how close I was to the door.

"You're tryna tell me that I can't go after the person that hurt my sister and your girlfriend?" Her eyes stared at me, wide and incredulous. "Am I hearing you right?"

"You're hearing me perfectly, Brooke, because I know you have a tendency towards violence when there are other ways to address this situation." My eyes fled to her feet which were slowly shuffling toward the door. Under normal circumstances, I most likely wouldn't have notice this, but now it seemed to be the most obvious thing about her. "Why don't you sit down and just cool off?"

And just as Brooke was about to argue back with me, Sara sat up from the bed and aided me in taming the beast. "Brooklyn Marie Waters, sit down now."

The sharp edges in her eyes softened as Brooke slowly obeyed Sara's orders, slinking over toward the bed like a child scorned by her Mother. Taking residence beside Sara, Brooke sat there almost pitifully. Giving Sara a look for a long moment, she nodded me off while mouthing, _"Give us a minute."_

Leaving the room, I closed the door shut though it opened another door within my mind as I continued to assess the situation.

* * *

Brooke's POV:

Sometimes, Sara could be as strict as Scotty or as gentle as Jazz, our foster parents. Right now, I was pegging her in between the two.

"Brooke... You can't just go off and want to beat everyone that messes with you or someone close to you." Sara chided me something that struck me as maternal. "I don't know why I'm giving you this life lesson when you're thirty, because it's not like when we were kids and everyone on the block was calling you 'Oreo' and me 'Cracker'. It's not the same."

Mumbling an, "I know" on a single breath, I lowered my head. "It's just... I gotta protect you and this is the only way I know how, y'know?"

Sara began chuckling at me, catching me off guard. "Brooke, we're in our thirties... I may have needed some protecting when I first came to live with you in New York, but I learned a lot from you back then. I don't need you protecting me like when we were kids. I have myself for that, and now Grissom. You don't have to be my guardian, you just have to be my friend and sister."

"You needed me tonight..." I slipped out against what my brain was telling me.

"You're right." Sara blew out a sigh. "I did need you. I probably would've gotten worse than a few bruises and a couple of scratches. But you don't need to go beyond past the point when I'm no longer in danger. That's where you get in trouble. And I don't need you getting in trouble."

Rubbing and massaging the back of my neck, I felt the heat rise.

"So, no more death threats on Heather?" I couldn't tell if Sara was asking a question or giving a statement. It was more like a combination of the two.

"Fine, I'll leave her breathing for now." I grunted out a hesitant response.

I felt the playful slap on my arm which made me turn at her with the brightest smile I could muster. It became easier to smile when one of her own showed through.

The Norman Rockwell picture perfect moment was interrupted by my phone going off. I had picked it up on my way out, finding it discarded at the fence. With the number blocked, I answered the phone with a less than polite greeting.

"Now now now... Is that anyway to treat someone who's got your dear old Taj at gunpoint?" The voice taunted from the other line.

"Who the Hell is this?" I asked, standing up immediately.

"If you want Taj back, get down to the old abandoned police station towards the outskirts of city in twenty minutes. If you don't, well... Don't count on him coming home for a late night quickie." My cheeks flared at the implications this unknown guy was making, pissing me off and embarrassing me in one clean strike.

"You asshole, I swear, when I..." But before I could finish the sentence, all I heard was the call ended beep with a message following it.

_'Call ended: 00:14'_

Snapping the phone shut, I slammed it as hard as I could to the floor before turning around in place which my hands through my hair. _Get rid of one problem, get two more..._

"Brooke, who was that?" Sara asked, now standing and laying a hand on my shoulder.

"Some prick has got Taj down at some abandoned police station at gunpoint. They told me to get down there in twenty minutes or else he's dead, pretty much." I reported in as much a calmed voice as I could provide. "I don't even know where the Hell this police station is... Sara, I can't lose him."

Sara's eyes seemed to search the room before she tossed the icepack onto the bed where she'd once laid. Rummaging through the drawer in the bedside table, she produced a pen and pad of paper, along with a gun in a holster, from her findings and scribbled something quick down on it before tossing it beside the icepack. It seemed only a split second later that she directed me out the window of the bedroom. I gave no objection as Sara snuck me and herself out of the house and as we stalked stealthily toward my car.

"You shouldn't be going with me Sara... Grissom's gonna go psycho on my ass if I get you endangered again." I warned as I started up the Skyline.

"What did I just tell you, Brooke? Be my sister and my friend and my guardian only when it calls for it." Sara tossed me a smile before I drove off.

* * *

Sara's POV:

A chill ran up and down my spine as we stepped out of the Nissan Skyline. The building before us was run down, but you could still make out the old print along the top.

_'Las Vegas Police Department'_

Taj was somewhere in there and being held hostage. Feeling along my waistline for the gun, I removed it from the holster, checking the clip once more. For the past six years, I'd never needed to use this issued gun, but the operation of the gun was not foreign to me. Much like riding a bike, I have never forgotten.

"You ready for this?" Brooke asked, the wind carrying the words a short distance over to my ears.

"Ready." I nodded.

My eyes shifted to every possible angle, surveying the land and watching for any unsuspected "surprises". But under the cloak of darkness, I might as well have been blind and searching in the day time for anything. The rustling of the nearby planted trees accompanied the sounds of our shoes hitting the pavement as we trekked toward the front door. My blood ran cold as we drew closer and closer, realizing everything was going far too smoothly for it to be deemed "realistic". The grip on my Glock 19 grew tighter and clammier as my pace slowed down, though Brooke kept walking faster. My mind willed her to slow down but it was no use. Any and all telepathic channels were closed with her mind being infiltrated with thoughts of Taj.

We were no less than a handful of steps away from the door when I felt two arms grab me from behind, leaping out of the bush and knock the gun out of my hand. The hand muffled my yells to warn Brooke as I noticed she grabbed for the door just as a gunman unveiled himself from behind a thick trunked tree, weilding a 9 mm. Turning around to investigate the commotion, the double doors swung open with a man waiting behind them to pull Brooke into a full Nelson choke hold. My eyes watched in horror as the man behind the door held Brooke in place as the gunman discharged five bullets into her chest all at once.

Brooke's chest jerked violently with each bullet that penetrated her as she slowly slid to the floor, her face contorted with pain. I screamed against the man's hand that held me back as I watched her slowly fall to the ground after the man holding her released his hold on her. Being through aside and into a bush, all three men made a run for it. Scrambling for my gun numbly, I aimed for the men's legs and only succeeded in getting two while the other disappeared down the road.

Knowing either men weren't going anywhere with a bullet in their legs, I crawled up the stairs to Brooke's side. I could see she was still breathing, no matter how difficult the task was becoming. The positioning of the bullet wounds didn't truly frighten me until I came across the fifth wound that was dead center on her heart. Shaking hands reached down her shirt and pulled out the identical dog tag chain, the pendent bent with a bullet mark now.

"One lucky son-of-a-bitch..." Brooke sputtered as she dropped both the pendent and her arm.

"Brooke, just hang on... I'm getting the paramedics out here." I said as I reached for my cellphone in my pocket.

"Taj...? Taj...!" Brooke weakly called out, her head facing inside the dark building.

Muffled screams came from close inside. Sending the call to 911, I wandered inside, gun drawn and crouched low for protection. Jumping over the counter of the reception desk, I came face to face with a tied up Taj. After freeing him from his rope bindings, no more was said between us as he jumped the counter and went to Brooke's side.

Watching the scene while leaning up against the desk, I sighed in relief when I heard a voice over the phone. _"911, what's your emergency?"_

"I need assistance out at the old police station outside the city immediately. Three down and one escaped." I explained in the most neutral voice I could use at the moment. "Police and paramedics please."

I cut off the connection before the woman could even tell me to stay on the line. Watching Brooke and Taj still, I speed dialed Grissom at the last moment.

"Honey... I need you."

**TBC...

* * *

**

A/N2: Bet you weren't expecting this, huh? Will she die or will she live? Just because one bullet missed a vital part of her, does that mean the other four will not kill her? Only time, and reviews, will tell. Haha.. Well, night y'all...

Peace out, one love,  
MC New York


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